year two
by not a straight trumpet
Summary: Kumiko Oumae, ready to face her second year at Kitauji High School, isn't quite sure what to expect. It's definitely not this.
1. Welcome Back, Euphonium

**a/n:** i can't believe i'm writing something as cliche as a directly post-canon fic but kyoani never makes third seasons so hibike is ours now and so this is happening and it's going to be gay as hell

* * *

Kumiko adjusted the blue scarf in front of the mirror, tugging at the ends of it as she kept one eye on the clock.

"Kumiko?" her mother called. "You know that you don't have to get going this early, right?"

"I know!" Kumiko yelled back. "I'm, uh, meeting with a friend! We haven't seen each other much over the break, I want to catch up with her!"

"If you insist." Kumiko snatched a breakfast pastry from the kitchen counter before bounding out the door, one hand kept tightly on her bag.

* * *

The walk to the train was surprisingly peaceful. The cherry blossoms had just barely started to bloom, and Kumiko caught sight of several other students in the same uniform she now wore - many of them strangers.

 _I'll have to introduce myself to the new kids when I get there,_ she thought. The train station came into view, as did Reina, her hands curled around the railing.

"Oh, Kumiko," she said, taking out one earbud when she saw the other girl. "I wasn't expecting you to make it here on time."

"Was that an insult?" Reina smiled smugly, turning away with her hands crossed behind her back.

"Quite the contrary, actually."

"Another confession of love?"

"Perhaps." Kumiko was about to ask what she meant, about to figure out the seriousness of her tone, when the train wailed into the station and Reina stepped on without another word.

"I wonder what the new first-years will be like," Kumiko mused as she settled down onto a seat. Reina sat beside her. "How many of them do you think'll join the band?"

"A lot, I hope. Taki-sensei's become more well-known as the advisor, and the notoriety of us having reached Nationals is bound to draw in more students." A light blush dusted Reina's cheeks when she mentioned the teacher, and Kumiko stuffed down the feeling of jealousy that resided in her gut.

"It might scare them off, too."

"What do you mean?"

"W-well, a lot of people joined the band without thinking it'd be that hard, right? Natsuki's told me what it was like before Taki-sensei, it sounded pretty relaxed. Now we've got this famous conductor and a Nationals trophy-"

"Bronze medal."

"-under our belts, it's pretty obvious that it's not going to be as loose."

"Obviously." Reina drummed her fingers on the window. "What's your point?"

"They'll be intimidated."

"Good." Reina looked out at the morning sky, dyed shades of pale pinks and blues as the sun rose. "There won't be any slackers." The train screeched to a halt, and Reina stood up from her seat, offering Kumiko a hand. "They're all waiting for us."

Kumiko couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a wave of nostalgia as she approached the school, her arm linked with Reina's.

"It feels like it's been so long," she murmured.

"It's only been a little over a month," Reina replied matter-of-factly, waving to a member of the clarinet section - now adorned in the third-year uniform with a younger sibling on her arm - as she continued walking.

"Yeah, but it's . . . different, now, y'know? A third of the school's _gone_ and replaced with a bunch of strangers."

"This is about Asuka-senpai, isn't it?" Reina sighed. Kumiko guiltily thought of the tattered booklet resting in her bag, the pages poured over and read until she had nearly memorized it all.

"Maybe."

"There's no time for this, anyway." Reina took Kumiko by the hand, weaving her way through the crowds expertly, until the two of them reached the entrance to the building.

"Where're we going?"

"Didn't you sign up for the introductory concert, too?"

"The . . . the what?"

"I could've sworn that I saw your name on the signup sheet." Kumiko briefly remembered clicking a button on her computer late at night in mid-March, and she could feel her face turning red as Reina sighed. "We're supposed to play for the students, as a preview of sorts."

"Oh. Right."

"Everyone's going to meet in the music room, I'll wait for you to get the euphonium from its case in storage."

"Do you think any of the new kids would want to play it? The euphonium, I mean." Reina shrugged.

"I don't know."

"It'd be nice if there was. Someone I could take under my wing, like Asuka did with me."

"I don't think I'd call how she was 'taking you under her wing' so much as it was . . . a strange bond between euphs. A situational thing. I never knew her very well, and I never trusted her, and that's not about to change anytime soon."

"Right." The two girls reached the storage room, and Kumiko dashed to the euphoniums almost instantly. "There it is," she breathed, picking hers from the shelf and hoisting it behind her back.

"What was it that Kawashima said once, about the . . . instruments picking their owner, or something?"

"I don't remember, but that sounds like her." Kumiko was already on her way out the door, silently berating herself for not staying in shape during the break. Her arms already felt like limp noodles, and she'd hardly left the room.

* * *

"We're here," Kumiko breathed shakily. Reina intertwined her fingers with Kumiko's, giving her hand a tight squeeze.

"We'll be fine. Now, there's no use in waiting here. They'll all be waiting." Reina tucked her trumpet case underneath her arm before sliding open the door. Hazuki was the first one to notice the two girls standing in the doorway, and she practically tackled Kumiko into a hug as soon as she did. Reina politely stepped out of the way.

"Kumiko!" Hazuki chirped, standing back. "I haven't seen you since graduation! How have you been?"

"I've been, uh, I've been good." Kumiko became acutely aware of the thirty pairs of eyes now on her, faces that had grown familiar to her over the past year. "Where's Midori?" Hazuki shrugged.

"She said that she wanted to go up to the roof and reconnect with George-kun, I think? I just let her do it, no sense in trying to stop her! That girl's like a hurricane, I'll tell you that. A tiny, keychain-loving hurricane."

"Hey, euphonium girl!" Nozomi called. Mizore stood beside her, intently testing her oboe. "Are you ready for another year? We're gonna make it to Nationals again, and we'll win this time!" Mizore silently pumped her fist in the air.

"That's the spirit," Natsuki said, lightly punching Nozomi on the shoulder. "Kumiko! I never thought ya'd make it here, there was a betting pool to see whether or not you'd be late."

"Shouldn't you be getting ready to conduct, idiot?" Yuuko hissed, standing behind her with fists clenched. Natsuki turned around and mock-bowed, a crooked smirk balanced on her face.

"Ah, but of course, _Madam President,"_ she airily sighed. Kumiko could practically see the steam coming out of Yuuko's ears.

"It's the same as it's always been," Reina whispered. Kumiko nodded.

"I'm glad."

* * *

Yuuko had, of course, decided on the ever-reliable _Crescent Moon Dance_ as the song for the band's outdoor performance. Kumiko could see a crowd of first-year students forming from where she stood, some eagerly pointing while others critically kept their eyes on Yuuko's swift baton movements, which were oddly in tune with the bouncing of her ribbon. She could see at least one gawking over Reina's solo, eyes wide. The song faded out, and Kumiko set down the euphonium to look down the stairs. It was an odd feeling, looking from this end of it all, down at the doe-eyed younger students.

 _I'll make you proud, Asuka-senpai,_ she thought, taking a bow in clumsy tune with the rest of the band. _I promise._

* * *

"I'm so glad that we're in the same class again!" Hazuki squealed, settling down into her new desk with a grin that would've made the sun look dull by comparison. "Say, where's Midori? I thought she'd be here by now, she was on the list for 2-4 too, wasn't she?"

"I'll find her." Kumiko set down her bag, already trying to remember the way to the roof. "We have to look out for each other, right?" Hazuki gave her a thumbs-up.

"That's the spirit! I'll tell the teacher that you're in the bathroom if he comes in!" Kumiko was in the hallway by the time Hazuki had finished her sentence.

"Midori?" Kumiko yelled, looking back and forth. _I'm calling her like she's a dog._ "Midori, class is starting in a couple of minutes!" She took a deep breath, ready to continue her relentless search, when a younger student barreled into her and immediately jumped back as if she was poisonous.

"I'm sorry, S-Senpai!" the underclassman yelped, bowing their head before dashing off.

"I'm not a-" Kumiko looked down at her uniform, the navy-blue ribbon flapping slightly from the air conditioning. "Oh. Right."

* * *

She reached the roof soon enough, and was about to turn back when she saw a blonde ahoge bobbing above the heaters.

"Midori! Hazuki's been waiting for you, class is about to start!" Kumiko walked over to the smaller girl, surprised by how peaceful she looked. Midori was sitting on the edge of her contrabass - _she's probably the only one who could get away with that without crushing it,_ Kumiko thought - as she watched the fluffy clouds drift along.

"The sky's pretty, isn't it?" Midori murmured. "It's so blue. It feels so close to the clouds up here, like I could just reach out and-" she stretched a hand out to the air, eyes sparkling "-touch them."

"Yeah." Kumiko crouched down beside her. "I can't believe we're here already. Second-years. It's kinda scary, isn't it?"

"That's why we need to take breaks like this. We have to remember that the world's going slowly, just like those clouds, just like the sky."

"You'd get along well with Reina," Kumiko chuckled.

"Kousaka-san? Yeah, I was disappointed when I learned we'd be in different classes again this year. She's learned from the best, she's amazing!"

"She really is." Kumiko smiled, warm tendrils wrapping around her heart. Midori looked over at her curiously, still precariously balanced on her contrabass.

"Say, Kumiko?"

"Yeah?"

"Is there . . . someone you like?" Kumiko stiffened.

"N-no, no, of course not!" she yelped, frantically waving her hands like a soldier calling surrender. "Nobody! Who gave you that idea?"

"Hazuki did." Midori looked back up at the sky, pointedly avoiding eye contact. "She's still sad over Tsukamoto, you know. First loves, they're not so easily forgotten."

"I _told_ you, I don't like him like that," Kumiko groaned.

"Of course you'd say that," Midori retorted. "You're too good of a friend, you care about Hazuki too much! You'd never date Tsukamoto, not when it'd break her already battered heart. Oh, you're so noble, Kumiko!"

"We have to get to class," Kumiko muttered. She could feel the familiar discomfort unwinding in her gut.

"There's no shame in telling me your feelings, you know." Midori continued to hound her as the two of them descended the stairs. "I won't tell Hazuki, I promise."

"There's nothing there. I don't like him that way, that's all there is to it."

"He gave you the hairpin, didn't he?" Kumiko considered herself a polite person when she tried to be, but Midori was grating on her patience in a way she'd have never expected her to - how could someone be mad at a human teddy bear, after all? And yet, Midori's chattering was doing nothing but aggravate her further.

 _I'm not going to become a bitter upperclassman. I'm not going to become a bitter upperclassman._

". . . oh, and the red string of fate, isn't that something you believe in? What if Tsukamoto's your soulmate?" The two girls had reached the entrance to the classroom. "How do you know you're not in love with-"

 _"I'm a lesbian, okay?!"_ Immediately, twenty-seven students swiveled their heads like owls to stare at her. Kumiko turned beet-red when she realized what she'd said, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"That'll be certainly enough, Oumae-san," the teacher - a gray-haired man with his expression hidden behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses - sighed. "Keep your theatrics to yourself, will you? It really is true, teenage girls always go to the bathroom in pairs." Kumiko was about to ask what he meant when she remembered her excuse. Hazuki winked at her.

"That was so brave, Kumiko!" she breathed, somehow managing to still sound loud even when she was whispering. "You sacrificed your own dignity to keep Midori's lateness under wraps!"

"T-that's . . . not what happened." Kumiko traced the scratched-in graffiti on her desk with her pointer finger, shaking. "I'll explain it all to you two before practice, okay?" Hazuki shrugged.

"Okay." Kumiko took a deep breath before taking her books from her bag.

"Okay."

* * *

The school day passed along at a sluggish pace as syllabi were handed out, teachers droned on about the upcoming year and students stared ahead, dead-eyed. All Kumiko could think about was practice, and she regretted not practicing during the break.

"I'm going to be so rusty," she groaned as Hazuki and Midori flanked her at either side, heading to the music room. Midori hopped in front of her, blocking the way.

"You can't just change the subject and not tell us what happened back there!" she squeaked adamantly. "It's not fair, both to me and Hazuki!" Kumiko rubbed her temples.

"Fine," she sighed. "You can't tell anyone else, though, okay?" Hazuki and Midori nodded in unison. "It's exactly what I said. I'm a lesbian. Gay. I like girls." Midori continued nodding, while Hazuki's expression went blank.

"Oh!" she blurted out, about thirty seconds later. "That's why you don't like Shuichi back!"

"Yeah." Kumiko scuffed the floor with her shoes, relief warm in her limbs. "I didn't really want to, y'know, say it outright, but you two kinda forced my hand."

"That's what's been bothering you, then?" Midori inquired.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been on edge all day," Hazuki said. "I guess it was just this! Don't worry, your secret's safe with us!"

"Uh, okay." Kumiko hadn't thought of herself as tense - Midori had pulled her nerves taut as a string until she had to snap, but she hadn't felt nervous or frustrated before that. "Let's go." Hazuki dramatically pushed open the sliding doors, entering with a triumphant grin.

"Miss me?" she sighed, leaning against the wall with a hand gingerly pressed to her forehead.

"Erm, Hazuki-chan, we saw you earlier this morning," Riko said, looking up from polishing her tuba. "It's nice to see you again, though!"

"Sentimental as always, eh, Riko?" Natsuki said as she folded her hands behind her head, her euphonium nowhere in sight. "I get that. It's nice, isn't it? Seeing the whole gang back together - or, most of the gang, anyway." Asuka's normal seat was noticeably empty, Haruka's old saxophone strap hung on a peg near the photograph of the band hung on the wall, and a box of pastries sent from Kaori through priority mail sat untouched underneath it. The room was filled with blue and green ribbons, without a single first-year to be seen.

"I'm sure that they're all doing fine," Gotou grunted. "We should focus on the here and now."

"The 'here and now' being that we don't have nearly enough students," Yuuko muttered from the other end of the room. Kumiko could see the bags under her eyes, the way she kept on tugging at her ribbon, and she knew that the older girl was stressed. "Taki-sensei isn't going to be able to work with this. We won't be able to make it to the Nationals and follow Kaori-senpai's dream." Yuuko started to go teary-eyed at her own mention of the band's old mother figure, wobbling over to Kumiko and grabbing her by the scruff of her shirt. "We'll be failing her, Oumae!"

"Now, now, Prez, don't go scaring her," Natsuki sighed, trying to pull Yuuko away with little success. "We don't wanna lose anyone else."

"Hah, because then you'd be the only euphonium left? There'd go our chances at Nationals."

"Care to say that again, Miss-"

"Uh, is this the place for the concert band?" The doors had slid open to reveal a young boy nervously fidgeting with his glasses. "If this is the wrong room, than I'm deeply-" Yuuko shoved Natsuki out of the way, speeding to the boy before fishing a signup sheet from her bag.

"Yes! This is the place, Kitauji High School's very own concert band, and _I'm_ the highly esteemed president."

"Sure you are," Natsuki groaned from the floor.

"And _that's_ my . . . assistant."

"'Assistant,' my ass, we're practically equals." The boy, bewildered, started to slowly back away.

"No, wait, don't go!" Yuuko yelped. The boy paused. "Please. We don't have enough members. We lost a ton because of an . . . incident two years ago, and now we don't have any of the old third-years, either. We won't be able to keep it up like this!"

"Okay, I'll-"

"We'll be shut down and then Taki-sensei will be out of a job and everyone who's hinged their whole lives on music will be miserable in the streets, begging whatever god they believe in for just one more chance, _one more chance_ to prove themselves, just one little miracle like you!" Yuuko was in hysterics, now, her breaths coming in gulps as the boy signed the sheet.

"Where'd _that_ come from?" Natsuki muttered. "Practice the introductory speech next time, will ya?"

"It worked, didn't it?" Yuuko hissed.

"Like cats and dogs," Riko said, smiling.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same," Midori mused. "Remember when Asuka-senpai introduced herself with a fake hand and some candy?"

"How could I forget?" Kumiko chuckled.

"So, what should I . . . do?" the boy piped up, holding the sheet close to his chest. "Do you need anything more?"

"The sheet'll do for now," Yuuko said, delicately snatching it from his hands. "We're still setting everything up, so feel free to just watch."

"What do you know, that actually sounded responsible," Natsuki snickered.

"That'd be worth a heck of a lot more if it wasn't coming from someone like you," Yuuko retorted. The boy plopped down on a crate in mild discomfort as Natsuki and Yuuko continued their incessant bickering, and Kumiko couldn't help but laugh at the familiar scene.

 _It's going to be an interesting year, alright._

* * *

 **a/n:** here we go


	2. Early-Spring Mysteries

**a/n:** here's the second chapter of this thing

god bless babynamewizard

* * *

 **Natsuki: hey**

 **Natsuki: president ribbons is pretty much tearing her hair out with stress over this whole first-year business, any chance you've got some genius plan up your sleeve?**

Kumiko rubbed the sleep from her eyes as her phone screen lit up the room.

 _It's two in the morning, what does she want?_

 **Natsuki: and i mean**

 **Natsuki: don't tell her i said this, but i'm kinda worried too**

 **Natsuki: i care about you nerds**

 **Natsuki: i don't want to make it onto the a-team this year just because there's nobody else**

 **Natsuki: this is my last year of high school, believe it or not**

 **Natsuki: i'm not gonna waste it**

Kumiko blankly stared at the screen before replying, curling into herself underneath the bedsheets.

 _Kumiko: i'll see what i can do_

* * *

Kumiko awoke the next morning with the thoughts of her conversation with Natsuki still at the forefront of her mind. She wondered briefly if it was a dream, but her phone's near-dead battery told her otherwise.

* * *

Natsuki's exhausted state that afternoon also told her otherwise, as things turned out.

"What happened to _you?!"_ Hazuki less-than-tastefully yelped when Natsuki slunk into the band room with two cups of coffee in her hands.

"I pulled an all-nighter at Yuu- erm, the prez's house." Kumiko blinked.

"W-wait, so when you said that she was freaking out, you meant she was actually . . . there? With you?"

"Affirmative," Yuuko grunted from the conductor's stand, wearing an equally groggy expression on her face. "Sometimes you need to sacrifice your dignity for the good of the band." The first-year boy - still the only new student to have joined the club - timidly stared at the two leaders as he tapped at a drum.

"So, that's the goal of today before we get into practice." Natsuki clapped her hands together, a feat made incredibly difficult by the coffee cups she was still holding. "We're filling up these ranks, we'll make Kitauji High School's concert band even stronger than it was."

"I can agree with you on that," Yuuko said, standing beside her. "Now, what was it that Ogasawara-senpai used to say before every big event?"

 _"Kitauji, fighto!"_ The entire room turned to stare at Reina, who had pumped her fist in the air rather suddenly. Kumiko held her breath to keep herself from laughing as Reina turned away with a huff.

* * *

It was decided, after a good half hour of debates, that the best way to spread knowledge of the band was to hang flyers in the school's hallways. Midori had stayed behind to continue drawing more, and Kumiko was left to hanging duty alongside Gotou.

"So, uh, how's senior year going for you?" she asked, stapling a flyer to a board already filled with advertisements for other clubs.

"It's fine," Gotou grunted. "I don't know how else to describe it."

"Do you know what colleges you're applying to?" Kumiko nearly stapled her fingers together as she walked down the hallway.

"Not yet."

 _Not much for conversation, huh?_

"I'm just trying to make it through this year and enjoy the time I have left with Riko."

"Ah, right. It's official, then?"

"I never had you as the nosy type, Oumae."

"I'm n-not!" Kumiko squeaked. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine. You're no stranger to these sorts of feelings, it's not as if I'm the only one who . . . cares deeply for someone." Kumiko gulped.

"Uh, w-what do you mean?"

"I've seen the way you've looked at Kousaka. It isn't an unfamiliar thing. It's nothing to fear, either." Gotou looked down at her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks?"

"Don't mention it." Gotou slapped another flyer to the wall, and Kumiko could've sworn she saw him smile for half a second before turning back to his usual default expression. "We need to get to the rest of the flyers. They'll all be expecting us back."

* * *

The flyers worked quicker than expected.

"Hey! Hey! This is the room, right?" Yuuko and Natsuki both scrambled for the door, elbowing each other out of the way all the while. Three first-year girls stood in the doorway. The tallest one - the ringleader, it seemed, from the way that the other two stood a bit behind her - held one of the pieces of paper in her arms eagerly, eyes shining.

"We've always loved music!" one of the girls chirped, smoothing out her skirt.

"We had no idea a place like Kitauji would have a concert band!" the second squeaked, clinging to the first girl's shoulder.

"Is it true that you made it to the Nationals last year?" the ringleader asked.

"You want to join?" Yuuko asked incredulously.

"Of course, silly!" the ringleader sighed. The girl who had been holding onto her friend's shoulder shot her a glare.

"Yui!" she hissed. "You can't just talk to her like that! What if she doesn't let us in?"

"Do you three have signup sheets?" Natsuki flippantly asked. "I can grab some from the office if ya don't." The girl who had snapped at the ringleader - Yui, apparently - produced the three papers with a smug grin.

"They're all filled out and ready," she said. Kumiko couldn't help but think that her smile was a bit too big for her face. "When do we get our instruments?"

"If we get enough kids? Tomorrow. We're waiting until we've got pretty much everyone ready before that all starts," Natsuki explained. Yuuko filed away the signup sheets, muttering about 'overexcited underclassmen' as she did so. "It's kind of a pain in the ass to drag everything out here, so it's best to wait."

"Oh, I get it!" the third girl said. "Momoko here knows which one she's gonna play already, don't you, Momo?" The girl in question nodded.

"I've dreamed of playing the euphonium ever since I was little," she murmured. Kumiko's mouth dropped open. "I've never seen a real one up close, though."

"I'm a euphonist," Natsuki said. "I could give ya some tips if you need." Momo stared at her in disbelief.

"There's already a euphonist in the band?" she whispered.

"Two, actually."

"They're both annoying, too!" Yuuko yelled from the other end of the room.

"Ignore her. Kumiko? There's someone who could, ahem, use your _expertise."_

"I'm r-really not that great," Kumiko mumbled. "I can't give you advice." Momo blinked.

"Okay." She skipped right past Kumiko to badger Natsuki with questions, eyes wide. Reina sidled over to where Kumiko was standing, lips curled upwards in a smile.

"It seems like someone's found an idol," she whispered.

"I have no idea what just happened," Kumiko muttered. "I think it's something good, though."

* * *

More of the younger students streamed in after that, and soon the room was filled with red scarves along with the blues and the greens. Natsuki and Yuuko managed, somewhat dysfunctionally, to show them around, and Kumiko found it impossible to not see a tiny bit of herself in every single one of them.

"We'll win Nationals for sure this year," she said to Reina, holding her hand nonchalantly. Those moments of strangely casual intimacy in plain sight never failed to surprise her, and yet she found herself initiating them more and more. She'd become bolder, she realized soon enough, and it was a thought that both thrilled and terrified her. Reina didn't seem to take much notice of the subtle change, all activity dedicated to her trumpet and to the importance of winning this year. Taki was, according to a schedule not-so-masterfully stolen from the office by Midori, returning to the school the following Tuesday. It was Thursday, presently, and the lack of time before the beloved teacher returned was enough to send half the students into a tizzy while the first-years looked on in confusion.

"What's Taki-sensei like?" Kumiko was snapped out of her thoughts by Momo standing rather uncomfortably close, staring up at her with an inquisitive expression. "I'd ask the vice president - she's so cool - but she's busy dealing with the paperwork. So, what's he like? He must be amazing." Kumiko glanced at Reina, who was practically turning green as she struggled to form a response.

"Taki-sensei's incredible," she said, voice clipped and forced as if the words were being dragged from her mouth. "He knows just what to do whenever the band is stuck, and we wouldn't be anything without him."

"He's good-looking, too!" one of the third-years yelled across the room.

"Yeah. Sure. That, too." Kumiko, thankfully, hadn't been asked much about her sudden outburst the previous day, but she still felt her skin crawl whenever someone asked her what she thought of the teacher - an occurrence that happened more often than she'd have liked.

"I can't wait to meet him," Momo dreamily sighed.

"Looks like you've got some competition, Kousaka," Yuuko teased, elbowing Reina as she tucked a stack of signup sheets under her arm.

"Shut up," Reina muttered, smacking the papers to the floor with the nonchalance of a cat knocking a glass off a table.

* * *

Reina had stayed behind with Natsuki and Yuuko in order to help start setting up for tomorrow's instrument choosing, and so Kumiko was left to take the train home with Hazuki.

"So, what's it like? Being, you know . . . _a gay."_ Kumiko stared at her blankly.

"It's . . . like anything else? I like girls, it's really not something you need to keep bringing up."

"Do you have a secret handshake? Some kind of code for the others to find you?" Kumiko chuckled.

"Hah, I wish. Nope, you j-just have to . . . hope, I guess." She paused for a moment. "You still haven't told anyone, right?" Hazuki mimicked crossing her heart, her expression solemn.

"I would never," she whispered. "After all, it's not every day that someone entrusts me with such a huge, life-changing secret."

"I don't get why it's such a huge deal for _you._ I mean, other people know. Reina, Natsuki, Asuka, I've mentioned it to them before. It's just something I'd prefer to keep under wraps for the time being." Kumiko folded her knees into her chest, looking up at the poster of a cheerful twenty-something couple on the wall of the train that rattled on the tracks. "You know how things are."

"I really don't." Kumiko had deemed Hazuki more or less a lost cause by the time the other girl's stop had come up, and so she was surprised when she patted her on the shoulder and whispered _"good luck with Kousaka-san, then"_ as she stepped off.

* * *

Numbers swam in front of Kumiko's eyes on the paper as she tapped the mechanical pencil against her forehead in frustration.

"Kumiko! Mail!" Her mother's voice rang across the house.

"I'm coming," she groaned, rolling off her bed and leaving the math homework behind.

"There's something here for you, it's a pretty big package. Did you order something online?" Kumiko shook her head as she stepped into the hallway, picking up the haphazardly wrapped blue box curiously.

"I'll check it out!" she said, ducking back into her room. She tore open the wrapping, revealing a worn-looking cardboard box held together mostly by duct tape. Opening it, Kumiko saw a mass of tissue paper sitting inside of the box. A letter floated out when she tossed out the tissue paper, and she read it before even looking at the present.

 _To whom it may concern-_

 _Ah, youth. Isn't it a crazy thing? It's always an unsure time, the beginning of a new school year, filled with twists and turns of every kind. It's not fun. It's not exciting. It's just something you have to drag yourself through. It's kind of hell, really. But what do I know? I'm just a fairy godmother of sorts, trying to help out when I can. You'll find something soft to hold onto during those tough nights in here, assuming it hasn't been stolen by postal services. Don't try to send a letter back to me, and expect more of these._

 _~a kindred being_

Kumiko set the letter aside to see a kitten plushie in pristine condition, lying down in the box.

"Huh." _This must be some kind of practical joke. Or maybe it was meant to go to some other Kumiko Oumae?_ Kumiko picked up the stuffed kitten and idly stroked it on the head. _I guess there're worse pranks than this._

She fell asleep with the kitten in her arms that night.

* * *

"That really is strange," Reina remarked the following morning on the train after Kumiko had finished recounting the strange box. "They said that there would be 'more of these?' It sounds a bit suspicious, if you want the truth. I wouldn't trust it." Kumiko shrugged.

"It's a stuffed cat in a box. I don't really think there's anything bad about it."

"You say that now, but the next one could be something entirely different and much worse, like a sex toy or a bomb."

"My mysterious mail-caretaker isn't going to send me a bomb, Reina."

"Not yet, they won't." Reina paused for a moment, peeling at a scrap of faux leather on the train seat that had started to fall off. "Anyway, what do you think of the new students?"

"They're . . . nice, I guess? I like them. I dunno how good they'll be at actually playing the instruments, though." Kumiko nervously fiddled with the keychains on her bag. "Not to mention the fact that Taki's been so hyped up by everyone that they'll probably be disappointed when they find out he's not a god."

"Who's to say he isn't?" Kumiko froze, her fingers hovering over Tuba-kun's tiny valves.

"Reina?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you . . . why do you keep bringing him up?" Reina looked to her curiously, violet eyes narrowed. "Why do you act like he's absolutely incredible?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't really know, to be honest." Kumiko smiled crookedly, her chest squeezing up. "J-just . . . he's twice your age, Reina. I'll support you no matter what, but he just wouldn't do that. Besides, you got closure last fall. He knows you admire him, we all do."

"It's deeper than admiration," Reina insisted. "It's love."

"How do you _know_ that, though? We're _kids,_ Reina, what do we . . . what do we know about love? It might not really be anything at all."

"How can you say that?!" Reina snapped, her hands curling into pale fists, knuckles flashing white bone underneath. "Don't you think I've considered that? I'd like to forget all about this, I would." The train wailed to a stop, and Kumiko stood up first, offering Reina her shaky hand. "I just can't," she said, her voice quiet.

Kumiko didn't bring it up for the rest of the day.

* * *

The argument - if it could even be called that - still rang in Kumiko's thoughts as she entered the classroom. Hazuki proudly beamed when she saw her friend, hoisting up a rainbow backpack as she sat down.

"Subtle," Kumiko said dryly.

"I bought it to support you!" Hazuki chirped.

"Thanks."

"So, how are things going with Kousaka-san?" Midori leaned over so far that Kumiko thought it a wonder she didn't tip the desk.

"Who gave you the idea that I like her?" Kumiko lied, pulling her crumpled, half-finished math homework from her bag to hide her face. She'd always been a terrible liar.

"It was obvious, really," Hazuki sighed. "Always going to everything together, dedicating things to each other - I really did think it was just something regular friends just did. I thought you two were like, the definition of 'best friends forever.' I sure was off the mark, huh?"

"You were."

"You're dodging Hazuki-chan's question!" Midori squeaked, waggling an accusing finger in Kumiko's face. "How are things with her? Have you . . . told her?"

"There's nothing to tell her." Kumiko straightened her papers as the teacher walked into the classroom. "She likes someone else, anyway."

* * *

"The first-years don't know that the band meets right after school, do they?" Natsuki sighed, watching the near-empty club room. "Figures."

"It wasn't _my_ job to spread the word!" Yuuko snapped.

"You're the president. Everything goes to ya by default, you have to assume that nothing's done if you don't check it over first."

"Why couldn't you have been like Asuka-senpai and run everything from behind the scenes?" Yuuko groaned. "None of the kids are going to get here in time, _and_ they'll get the last pick of instruments."

"Last pick of the . . . oh, shit."

"What?"

"The school only has two euphoniums. Asuka's was her own."

"Yeah, so?"

"Remember that girl dead-set on playing one? She'll be heartbroken, and then she'll leave the club and take her two friends with her."

"You're right . . . give me your phone."

"What?" Yuuko flicked her ribbon irritably.

"Mine's dead. I need your phone."

"Fine." Natsuki dug through her pocket, fishing out the phone with indecipherable mutters of words that would've probably gotten her kicked out of the school if anyone outside of the band room heard her. "Here." Yuuko snatched it and started to tap away, hyperfocused on the loading wheel.

"The school wifi is terrible," she muttered. "Oh, here it is!"

"What're you even-"

"Done!"

"What the _hell_ did you do with my phone, Prez?"

"Don't call me that." Yuuko handed Natsuki her phone back. "And what I _did,_ Nakagawa, was save the band." She paused guiltily for a moment. "I ordered a euph online."

"You did _what?!"_

"What, did you lose your hearing, too?"

"Do ya _know_ how expensive those things are?! I'm a high school student with hardly enough money to keep paying tuition, I can't just buy a euphonium!" Natsuki flung her arms in the air, exasperated.

"Geez, did you think I'd force you to pay for it? I'm not cruel, Natsuki." Yuuko's voice softened on the second sentence. "We'll cut back on decorations for the next party and slip it into the club budget."

"Oh." Natsuki jammed her hands in her pockets, her cheeks beginning to turn a rather bright shade of pink. "Thanks, I guess."

"Don't mention it."

Kumiko tentatively stepped into the room with her hands clasped together, unsure of what to make of everything she'd just heard.

"I could, uh, h-help set everything up," she said, scuffing the floor with her shoes.

"That'd be appreciated," Gotou grunted. "Those two have been arguing for the past twenty minutes, it's just been Riko, myself, and Chikao over there." The boy in question quietly waved. "We still need to take the drums up."

"I'll help!" Riko offered.

"Oi, not so fast," Natsuki stopped her with a hand. "You're essential to keeping everything in line here, I'll go down to get the drums with Oumae. I'll go nuts if I don't get out of here for a few minutes. Try not to set the place on fire while I'm gone, Prez."

"Got it."

"They really are such good friends," Riko sighed as Natsuki strutted out the door with Kumiko in tow.

"Is it hard?" Kumiko asked once the two of them were out of earshot. "Being the vice president?"

"Of course it is. It wouldn't be a job if it wasn't." Natsuki looked up at the ceiling, running a hand through her hair. "It's worth it, though. I couldn't do anything last year, but now I'm pretty much co-running the club." A clap of thunder sounded outside, and Kumiko realized that it had started to rain. "I like it, and the cute girls asking me in the hall about it don't hurt either, heh." Kumiko chuckled.

"I'm sure."

"Speaking of which, I heard about that little stunt ya pulled in homeroom the other day. That was . . . bold, I guess. Kinda stupid, but bold."

"It wasn't a 'stunt.' I just got tired of Hazuki and Midori _assuming_ things and so I just . . ."

"Snapped?"

"Yeah." Kumiko pushed open the door to the storage room, taking the drums from their position on the shelves.

"You're braver than I was."

"Really?" Kumiko let out a yelp as one of the drums wobbled in her arms. "I, Kumiko Oumae, the kid who accidentally came out to her friends because of a bad mood, I'm braver than _you,_ the one with the rainbow pin on her bag? The one who's never apologized for anything? You're kind of a badass, Natsuki." Natsuki smirked.

"Glad to hear it."

"It's the truth. You act like you can do anything, even when things don't . . . work out, for you."

"That's what I do." Natsuki shrugged nonchalantly, helping Kumiko heft up the drum. "It's how I manage."

"Right."

"Anyway, that's enough emotional conversation for one day. Let's get back up there, we'll be taking trips back and forth all night if we keep going at this rate."

* * *

The older members of the band had just barely managed to bring all of the instruments into the room when the first-years started to hurry in.

"We're not late, are we?" Yui asked between heavy breaths, Momo and the third girl (whose name Kumiko had yet to learn) on her heels.

"You are, actually," Yuuko said flippantly. "Practice meets directly after school."

"I _told_ you that there wasn't an hour between the end of classes and the start of club!" Momo hissed.

"It's fine, don't worry about it!" Kumiko hurriedly got between the group of girls and Yuuko, wiping away the sweat on her brow. "Just don't do it again, okay? We're picking instruments today, you've cut down on our time pretty badly. C'mon, this'll probably be the highlight of your year."

"Was it yours, Oumae-senpai?" Momo inquired. Kumiko remembered her awkward induction into the brass section with a wince.

"Not really."

"There isn't enough time for this!" Hazuki blurted out, looking up from where she'd stacked sheet music.

"This is an important time for them, you can't take it lightly!" Midori squeaked in agreement. Yuuko walked to the front of the room, clapping to gain everyone's attention.

"Now, everyone, I'm sure that you know what we're about to do. The section leaders, or the oldest student playing their instrument, will provide a brief - emphasis on _brief,_ euphonium, we don't want a continuation of last year - explanation of their instrument." Yuuko paused to retrieve her trumpet. "The trumpet is fairly well-known, even outside of music circles, and it's . . ."

"The drums are great stress relief, as our dear departed Knuckle-senpai told me once . . ."

"The clarinet can be incredibly beautiful, if you play it right . . ."

"I can't do it," Midori whispered to Kumiko, holding the paper with notes on the contrabass on it in trembling fingers. "How can I tell them what music truly is?"

"You have to, Midori-chan!" Hazuki whispered back. "You're the only contrabass in the band, wouldn't you want a pupil?"

"Contrabass?" Yuuko called. "Contrabass, you're up next."

"I can't do it justice. I'm getting stage fright, I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Contrabass, we don't have all day."

"Go!" Hazuki all but shoved Midori to the front of the room.

"Uh, t-the contrabass is this wonderful instrument that's . . . uh . . ." Midori imitated the playing of the instrument.

"A saw?" one of the first-years piped up from the back.

"No!" Midori squeaked. "It's like a giant violin!" She cleared her throat, looking down at the paper. "It's too big for me to bring it all the way here, but I do hope you consider it!"

"Three cheers for the big-ass violin!" another first-year - or maybe the same one, Kumiko couldn't tell - yelled from the back. A few of the others took up the chant, and Midori smiled as she scurried back into her chair.

"That . . . actually went pretty well," she whispered. Hazuki grinned.

"What'd I tell you?"

"Hazuki-chan, you didn't really tell her anything," Kumiko said.

"I encouraged her!"

"So, that's it for the intros," Yuuko concluded. "We've only got a little while before the school kicks us out, so hurry up with your choices." The students dispersed, chatting amongst themselves, and Kumiko stationed herself near the brass. Momo was the first to show up, unsurprisingly, eyeing the euphonium like it'd sprout legs and run away if she even blinked.

"I guess I don't have to scout you, huh?" Kumiko chuckled, remembering Asuka once again. "You'll have to wait a few days for one, though. We can't exactly spend money on priority mail, y'know."

"I don't mind," Momo said. "I'll wait as long as I need to. Can I try it out?"

"Go ahead." Natsuki stood beside Kumiko, putting a hand on her shoulder. Momo instantly stiffened, inching closer to the older girl. "She's awfully eager, isn't she?" Momo nodded excitedly.

"I used to listen to Shindo-san's music every night before I went to sleep, it was like a lullaby to me when I was a little kid." Kumiko drew her lips into a tight line, several thoughts feeling like they'd stab her in the brain if she kept thinking them for more than a few seconds. "You've heard of him, I'm sure."

"His daughter used to go here!" she blurted out, promptly clapping her hand over her mouth as soon as she realized she'd spoken.

"She did?" Natsuki and Momo asked, in unison.

"Yep," Kumiko said stiffly. "Yep, she went here. I read about it. Online. The article's gone now, though. I never knew her." That, at least, was part of the truth. She'd never known Asuka, not really - the older girl had been as elusive as she was at the very beginning, and Kumiko doubted that she ever would know her. Asuka was a mystery nobody had wanted to unravel, and yet Kumiko knew more of her than most of her close friends had, and yet when she tried to remember her all that came up was a jumble of heroism and innuendos. "She sounded pretty amazing, though."

* * *

"Well, I think that went really well!" Hazuki cheerfully bounced beside Kumiko and Reina, who still hadn't talked beyond idle chatter since the morning. "We'll have some more members to our section, and I'll get to practice with all of you guys again! Team Monaka's great, but I've missed Riko-senpai and the smell of that classroom."

"I wonder if Taki-sensei's going to be any different," Midori mused. Reina flinched. "He's going to be even tougher on us now that he knows what we can do."

"I'm ready for it!" Hazuki cheered. "I'm gonna make it onto the A-team this year, and we'll win gold at Nationals!"

"You're incredibly optimistic." Reina walked a few paces ahead, her expression carefully neutral. Kumiko could see how fake it was from a mile away. "I hope you really do expect it, and put everything you have into that goal. Otherwise, there's no point." Midori gaped.

"You sounded just like him."

"Like who?"

"Taki-sensei. You knew him when you were little, right?" Reina nodded, clearly uncomfortable. "You must've picked up on some of his habits, everyone does it when they're around people for a while."

"Yeah, Kumiko gestures just like Asuka-senpai sometimes!"

"I do?"

"Yeah, you do," Hazuki confirmed. "I'm surprised you didn't notice it yourself, it's pretty obvious." The rain from earlier had subsided, leaving the sidewalks gray and the flowers damp. "I guess most people don't notice their own quirks, though."

"We have to hurry if we want to make it to the next train," Reina said, cutting into the conversation. "It won't wait forever."

* * *

Hazuki and Midori had since left for their own homes, and Kumiko was left to sit in awkward silence with Reina.

"So, uh, the new kids are looking pretty good," she said. "I think we might have a real shot at winning this year."

"Are you saying we didn't last year?" Kumiko didn't say anything. "There are a few new members of the trumpet section, they have potential. What about brass?"

"There's the one girl who really into the euph. She's pretty much head-over-heels for Natsuki, it's actually kind of adorable."

"You aren't worried that she'll steal your spot when the competitions begin?"

"Of course I am." Kumiko hadn't thought about it much before that, but any conversation with Reina was a distraction from the wailing of the train, the silence that always formed between the two of them. "It just means I have to try harder than before and improve, right? I can become special, like you."

"It might not be enough." There was something strikingly beautiful about Reina in that moment, the artificial lighting seeming to fade away as she turned to face the window, the setting sun casting some sort of glow onto her face.

"If we're being honest, Reina, I don't think it ever will be."

* * *

The weekend passed by in a blur, a whirlwind of homework and "getting back into the groove of things," as Kumiko's mother put it. It was a lazy Sunday morning when her phone beeped with a string of messages.

 **Hazuki: can you believe well see taki-sensei in two days?**

 **Hazuki: itll be weird seeing him again**

 **Kumiko: you have no idea**

 **Hazuki: anyway**

 **Hazuki: any updates on you and kousaka-san?**

 **Hazuki: ;)**

 **Kumiko: please don't ever do that again**

 **Hazuki: do what**

 **Hazuki: ;)**

 **Kumiko: please**

 **Hazuki: ;)**

 **Hazuki: really though!**

 **Hazuki: this is like the best news ive heard in months!**

 **Kumiko: ...the fact that i'm gay?**

 **Hazuki: it means im free to pursue shuichi**

 **Kumiko: you could've done that before**

 **Hazuki: not when i thought you were head-over-heels for him!**

 **Kumiko: what made you think that?**

 **Hazuki: oh, you know**

 **Hazuki: youre a girl, hes a boy, you two knew each other when you were little kids**

 **Hazuki: who was i to get in the way of that?**

 **Hazuki: but it turns out you dont even like boys at all somehow**

 **Kumiko: thanks?**

 **Kumiko: i really don't know if this is supposed to be a compliment or an insult**

 **Kumiko: but good luck anyway**

 **Kumiko: unrequited crushes are the /worst/**

 **Kumiko: i hope it works out between you two**

Kumiko shut down her phone with a sigh.

 _Hazuki's taking everything better than I'd have expected her to, not that that's saying much. Reina won't engage in anything more than small talk. I'm already in my second year of high school and I still don't know what I'm supposed to do._ She tucked herself back into her bed, curling up in the fetal position. _I shouldn't already be this tired._

* * *

"Alright, everyone, listen up." Yuuko had grown into her position as president fairly quickly, taking on a rather commanding presence every time she stepped to the front of the room. It was nothing like Haruka's timid speeches, her quiet encouragement, but it worked just as well. "Our advisor is going to arrive tomorrow, so we'll have to be prepared. There won't be any slacking off, alright? We're gonna carry out the alumni's wishes, we're winning gold at Nationals. If you're lazy and just came here for fun, I'm sorry."

"There's no place for that here anymore," Natsuki added.

"Wasn't your nickname 'lazy euph' last year?" Yuuko retorted. Natsuki shrugged, flashing Yuuko a smug grin.

"People change," she said. "I mean, who'd have though that you'd actually be a competent leader?"

"Shut up," Yuuko huffed. " _Anyway,_ the advisor's coming tomorrow. Don't expect this to be easy. You'll bleed and sweat and probably cry, you might not even make it to the competition and end up on the B-"

"Team Monaka," Natsuki interjected. "That's what it's called now." Yuuko shot her a glare.

"Sure, that. You might not be able to perform in front of a crowd, but you've got to work your very hardest anyway. We're winning this, alright? We're winning."

"Should I do it, or should you?" Natsuki asked.

"Do what?" Natsuki punched her fist in the air. "Oh, that. It was usually Ogasawara-senpai who did that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I guess it falls to me." Yuuko gripped the conductor's stand with one hand, eyes blazing with determination. _"Kitauji, fighto!"_

* * *

The room of sixty-odd students waited in rapt attention the next day as the door slid open and a well-dressed man in his early thirties stepped inside.

"I suppose it's time for us to begin."

* * *

 **a/n:** hazuki tries ok. she tries.


	3. Ambitious Symphony

**a/n:** president dingleberry can't stop me from writing my fics

and to the person who asked if there would be asukumi in this fic: no. i'm not a big fan of asukumi and there won't be any of it in this fic, i'm sorry.

* * *

"I can't believe five of the first-years actually _left,"_ Kumiko said. "What'd they expect?"

"I can recall someone who didn't know what she wanted at that age," Reina replied, hands behind her back. "They know what's expected of them, now. It's good that they've left. It's like Yuuko said, there's no room here for slackers." The sky had turned the most brilliant shade of purple, and Kumiko stared up at it, the stars just starting to come out.

"I'll be that there're more stars out in the country," she murmured.

"What does that have anything to do with it?"

"W-wait, I said that out loud?!" Reina lightheartedly elbowed her.

"Terrible, truly." It was such a tiny thing, something so utterly insignificant, but at that moment Kumiko thought that perhaps it meant more than all the stars she couldn't even see.

* * *

Another package arrived in the mail that night, already sitting on Kumiko's bed when she entered her room. It was wrapped in lavender paper, this time, and she tore it open quickly.

 _To the one receiving these packages-_

 _School can be stressful, can't it? I know that better than anyone, hah. People are changing, life is dragging you by the ass, it's all so very unpleasant. You can't be in high school if you're not dead inside, that's how I see it. That's why I've sent you this, to relieve some of that stress._

Kumiko gulped.

 _I really do hope that it helps. I wish you the best of luck with all of your endeavors, young one._

 _~your caretaker_

Kumiko tossed away the tissue paper with uneasiness in her gut.

She had never been more grateful to see a scented candle in her life.

* * *

"I bought five boxes of Band-Aids yesterday!" Midori bragged, showing off her already-bandaged fingers. "We came really close to winning last year, didn't we? So, if we all just work a bit harder than we did back then, we're bound to win! We have to deliver the music to the people, we have to make sure that the whole world hears Kitauji's sound at its very best."

"That's the spirit, Midori!" Hazuki cheered. "I didn't have much time to practice with Tubacabra yesterday, but I did some breathing exercises last night and I already feel great, like I can take on anything!"

"It's gonna be weird practicing in sectionals without Asuka-senpai," Kumiko murmured. "She was the one who always kept us in line."

"Yeah, yeah, but we just have to keep moving forward!" Hazuki smacked her hands down on her chest, looking straight ahead. "That's the only way we'll make it through!"

"That's a lovely speech, Katou-san, but I'm afraid that class is actually beginning now. Please sit down." The teacher lowered his glasses to glare directly at Hazuki, who lowered into her seat.

"What a party pooper," she muttered, crossing her arms. Kumiko couldn't help but chuckle.

* * *

Kumiko was on her way to practice, euphonium case in her arms, when she heard a melody drift from outside the drafty window. She set down the euph in the hallway for hardly half a second before picking it up again and lugging it up the stairs, following the music.

 _It's Reina, isn't it?_ The sound grew ever closer, and Kumiko knew just where she'd find the other girl. _I guess it's gotten to a point where I just know what she sounds like._ Kumiko reached the bridge, where Reina had already set herself up, sheet music pinned to a stand with a Tuba-kun paperweight.

"You'll be late," Reina said, without looking at her, without missing a beat. "Taki-sensei sent the trumpets out to practice individually, he said that it was some sort of way for us to strengthen ourselves instead of relying on the rest of our section. I don't know what the brass section is doing."

"Probably getting bossed around by Natsuki or something," Kumiko joked. "She's stricter than she looks."

"I can see that." Reina set down her trumpet, letting out a sigh. "It feels nostalgic, doesn't it? The beginnings of the year, everyone slowly finding their place again. Reinvention, rejuvenation. It's a time of new beginnings, that's what everyone says." Reina let out a soft laugh. "I'm starting to sound like an awful poet."

"W-well, yeah." Kumiko was reminded of her own, aggressive attempt at a fresh start that she'd thought would end as more of the same as soon as Hazuki and Midori had dragged her back into the band, but she'd never been happier about a failure. "It's true, y'know. Even if things don't go . . . like you'd expect, they're still happening. It's scary, but we're all changing."

"That's awfully insightful."

"It's my weird fairy godmother-person. They're making me think. I know that it's probably just some weird coincidence, or maybe it's just Mamiko sending me presents, I don't know, but there's a dumb little part of me that thinks maybe, uh, maybe they're really a guardian angel of sorts."

"You want to believe in magic," Reina said simply. Kumiko's hands had gone cold, and she couldn't help but wish that Reina would hold them.

"Yeah."

"I'm afraid that I don't know what to tell you." Reina leaned over on the railing, and Kumiko hurried to stand beside her, her mind flashing with images of Reina tipping over and falling to the ground. "The only magic I've ever concerned myself with is the kind people create by themselves. You can climb up a mountain and stare down at the starry buildings, but you can't expect miracles to fly from the walls and take care of everything for you." Kumiko saw her hands tighten on the railing, and without thinking, she put her own hand on top of Reina's. Reina looked to her for a moment, mouth open in an _o_ shape for just a second before she closed it again, eyes flashing with surprise. "If fate is real, she's unbelievably cruel." Kumiko didn't ask what she meant by that. She didn't really want to know, in any case.

* * *

"Alright, day two." Natsuki shifted her position in her seat, earbuds dangling from her pocket. "Taki-sensei told the section leaders that we need to focus on breathing exercises - except for the trumpets, must be some kinda favoritism thing - so that's exactly what we're gonna do."

"Yeah!" Momo cheered from the corner. The school's third euphonium was still in transit, according to Yuuko, and so the first-year simply sat in on the practices and watched Natsuki with wide eyes.

"Okay, he gave me a list earlier today- oh, crap, where'd I put it?"

"Right here," Hazuki pointed out, nudging the crumpled paper on her desk towards Natsuki.

"Oh. Right."

"The vice president's a bit of a scatterbrain sometimes, isn't she?" Midori whispered.

"Y-yeah, I guess." Natsuki let out a discontented groan as she read out the long list in a jokingly monotone voice. "It's nice, though."

"Why?"

"She doesn't change."

* * *

"Geez, I feel like my lungs are gonna burst!" Hazuki groaned that evening, folding her hands behind her head. "I wouldn't have expected Natsuki-senpai to work us that hard!"

"She knows what's expected of her," Reina said, keeping her head high and her gaze averted. "That's all."

"Aw, what's _with_ you, Kousaka-san?" Hazuki whined. Kumiko timidly ducked behind Midori, a feat made rather difficult by Midori's stature. "You were just as eager as the rest of us last year, at least when we got to know you, but now you're all prim and proper again!"

"Prim and . . . proper?" Reina echoed in confusion.

"You know . . . uptight. Like, I'm expecting you to say the word _peasants."_ Kumiko wanted to sink into the pavement. "Did something happen?" Hazuki gasped. "Did something happen between you and-"

 _"Oh hey look the convenience store just started selling the new Tuba-kun keychains let's go see those and stop talking about Reina's love life, okay?"_ Kumiko said it all in one breath, more or less pushing her three friends in the direction of the store's parking lot. Reina mouthed a silent _thank-you._

"You're right, Kumiko-chan!" Midori squeaked as she crouched to face the machine at eye level. "Oboe-kun, I've waited so long to see your face!"

"Oboe-kun?" Reina repeated.

"We'll be sure to nab one for you, too, Kousaka-san, so how about you and Kumiko talk for a little bit?" Hazuki said, inching closer to where Midori crouched. "Maybe even where we can't hear you!" Kumiko didn't need another less-than-subtle hint and backed away from the toy dispenser with Reina until the two of them were standing by the ivy-covered sides of the store.

"I've never seen anything beyond the storefront," Reina murmured. "I don't think I've ever even been inside the store."

"You're not missing much." Kumiko remained silent for a moment, stamping out a cigarette butt some careless twenty-something had probably left there an hour ago. "Y'know, Hazuki kinda has a point."

"About what?" Reina turned to her, the streetlights illuminating her face in strange ways.

"You're acting like you did when I first met you."

"Maybe I've just refocused on my ambitions." Reina tilted her head to look up at the sky.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't." A sudden gust of wind blew through the parking lot, and Kumiko shivered. Reina took off her coat and handed it to her without a word. "I also don't expect you to understand."

"Of course I'm not going to understand if you keep being cryptic like that." Kumiko pulled the coat closer. It smelled of lavender and brass, as Reina always did.

"Hey! Kumiko! Kousaka-san!" Hazuki called from around the corner, waving two plastic capsules in her hands. "We got lucky this time!"

"M-maybe we could do something together this weekend, just the two of us. A sleepover, or something like that." Kumiko nervously twirled her fingers, looking anywhere but at Reina's face.

"I'd like that, actually." Kumiko's head shot up.

"Y-you would?"

"I'm sure my parents won't mind if I have a friend over." Kumiko (and Hazuki, she noticed out of the corner of her eye) flinched at the word _friend,_ but she regained her composure quickly.

"Yeah, that sounds great! I'll bring over a movie or something, what about Saturday night?"

"I don't think I have any other plans, so that'll work nicely." Hazuki dropped the Oboe-kun charm into Reina's hands before she could say anything else.

"Consider it a gift!" she chirped. Reina nodded, fastening it to her bag.

"I will. Thank you, Katou-san." Hazuki scoffed.

"Aw, please, call me Hazuki!" Reina blinked.

"Alright . . . Hazuki."

* * *

"You have nice friends," Reina nonchalantly commented on the train later that evening.

"It's not like this is the first time you've met them, Reina. We've been hanging out together for nearly a year."

"True, but it still comes as a surprise, occasionally." Kumiko looked at the Oboe-kun keychain dangling from the bag. "I'm not sure what it is about this toy - I don't even _play_ the oboe, they both know that - but it's a nice gesture. I can't say that I mind it." Reina shifted in her seat, kicking off her shoes. "You know, I didn't have a lot of friends when I was younger." She spoke in a detached voice, as if she was talking about someone else she knew once. It was a cold way of speaking, and it sent a shiver down Kumiko's spine. "I think they were all a bit afraid of me."

"What, really?" Kumiko tried to forget the time she was convinced Reina was leading her to the back of the school to kill her. "How could anyone be afraid of _you?"_ Reina shrugged.

"Regardless, that was how it was, and I was perfectly content with that." Reina poked at Oboe-kun's round cheeks. "Now it's different, and I'm content with that, too."

"Right." The train stopped, and both girls stood up at the same time. "It's different now."

* * *

Kumiko fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow that night.

 _She dreamed that she was being pulled in two, shadows gripping her abdomen and trying to drag her down with them as she reached for a slender hand in the far, far distance, fingertips barely touching, but it was enough for her to keep reaching._

She woke up with tears poking at the corners of her eyes.

* * *

"Kumiko?" Reina waved a hand in Kumiko's face the following morning, seeming rather unfocused herself. "You've been spaced out all morning, is everything alright?" Kumiko waved her off with a limp hand.

"I just had a weird dream last night," she yawned. "Must be the stress . . . y'know, second year of high school, winning Nationals, all that."

"I didn't know you still cared." No matter what Reina actually said lately, she always seemed disinterested, and it made Kumiko feel unbelievably small.

"Of course I do!" Kumiko yelped. The sky was turning shades of pale pink and orange, but she didn't bother to look out the window. "I have people I care about, too. Yuuko had a point when she wanted Kaori-senpai to play the solo, even when you were better. We'll be the oldest people in the band soon, I'd like it if Natsuki had a chance to play before she leaves. I'd like it if pretty much everyone remembered who led the club to the Nationals in the first place."

"Taki-sensei?" Kumiko flinched.

"W-well, him too. I was thinking about Asuka-senpai, actually."

"Of course." Reina turned away with a sniff. Kumiko didn't know what else to say, leaning against the window. The train rides seemed to be filled with more and more silence as the days went on, and yet it had hardly been a week since school started. Oboe-kun still dangled from Reina's bag, its beady eyes staring up at the sky.

* * *

 _"So,"_ Hazuki began, waggling her eyebrows. "I heard you're going to sleep over at Kousaka-san's _house,_ is that right?" Kumiko wordlessly nodded.

"You've got to tell us the details!" Midori squeaked. "That's what friends are for, right?" Kumiko could feel her cheeks heating up, and she stared intently at her work to avoid the prying glances of her friends, hungry for any information they could get their hands on. The teacher stepped into the room, as he always did, and Kumiko sat up without another word.

* * *

Hazuki and Midori had stayed after class to 'go over math problems' - which Kumiko suspected was code for _meddle_ \- and so she found herself walking down the hallway alone.

"It was an impulse purchase - please, Taki-sensei, we'll just cancel some party or something." Kumiko froze, pressing herself against the wall.

"Yoshikawa-san, I understand your eagerness, but the club's budget is incredibly small as it is. I hadn't planned to mention it until absolutely necessary, but Kitauji isn't doing very well, financially speaking. We didn't account for any parties at all in the budget, it's all the bare minimum. Equipment and transportation for the competitions, that's all we can afford." Yuuko gritted her teeth, and Natsuki held onto her arm in a manner that might've been meant to be comforting.

"It's not her fault, Taki-sensei," Natsuki said. "I was the one who requested the third euph." Kumiko blinked.

 _That wasn't her. Yuuko was the one who-_

"It doesn't matter who requested it or bought it." Taki's voice cut into Kumiko's thoughts, even and unfeeling. "You can either return it, or Nakagawa-san can pay the full price. I'm sorry, but I can't help you." Kumiko heard the teacher's footsteps _clip-clop_ down the hall.

"You didn't have to do that," Yuuko muttered. "Playing the hero doesn't suit someone like you."

"What, did ya think I would just rat you out and get ya kicked out of your position as president?"

"Yes." Natsuki stuffed her hands in her pockets, staring down at the ground.

"You don't have a whole lot of faith in me, then."

"I can take care of myself," Yuuko sniffed. She didn't answer Natsuki's question.

"I don't doubt that, but it'd suck to bear this whole thing on your own. Y'know, what with Asu- erm, the third-years leaving, all the new kids finding their places. It's not a great time to be a leader."

"Of course it's not. I didn't even _want_ this job, but it's the only way I can keep Kaori-senpai's memory alive and-"

" _Christ,_ Prez, it's not like she's _dead._ I'm sure you'll see her around again someday. If she's really the only reason you're doing this, then I think there're some more people suited better to this position."

"Oh, you want to tell me about hard work, miss lazy euph?" Natsuki stiffened.

"We have to get to practice," she muttered. "You can thank me later."

Kumiko walked a few paces behind the two of them wordlessly, refusing to notice how their hands were intertwined like the last lovers on a sinking boat.

* * *

"When do you think Taki-sensei's gonna let us practice in an ensemble?" Hazuki wondered, not asking anyone in particular. Kumiko shrugged.

"He'll know when we're ready, I guess. What'd he say we had to learn, Natsuki?" Natsuki looked up when her name was mentioned, and Kumiko could see the bags under her eyes.

"Oh, I think it was . . . uh . . . _Eclipse._ Yeah, it was that."

"Erm, Nakagawa-senpai?" Momo timidly whispered.

"Yeah?"

"We still don't have the sheet music for it." Natsuki paled.

"Oh." Hazuki and Midori watched curiously as Natsuki hurried out of the room. Kumiko could see the way her cheek twitched, the way her eyebrows knitted, and she had never wanted to give the older girl a hug more than she did in that moment.

"What was that about?" Hazuki wondered as soon as Natsuki had left the room.

"I'm sure that she's just nervous like the rest of us," Riko trilled, smoothing out her skirt placidly. "You're lucky, Katou-chan, you still have about a year before you have to worry about these things! It's quite liberating, really, once you've gotten used to it, at least that's what Asuka always told me, but she's not here anymore, so the seniority lies to myself, Gotou, and our dear vice president!" Gotou put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Nakagawa is more prone to these sorts of fears than the rest of us," Gotou explained. "This isn't a burden she was prepared to bear." Midori sat up in her seat.

"Yeah, but-"

"I got them." Natsuki shoved open the door, stacks of paper in her arms. "I got the music, we can start practicing now."

* * *

"Hey, Reina?" The breaks during practice were usually hardly more than ten minutes long, and most simply opted to stay in their classrooms during sectionals, but Kumiko found Reina in the hallway regardless.

"Yes?"

"Do you think we'll ever lead the band someday?"

"What brought this on?" Reina leaned against the window, looking as if she'd fall down through the sky if she just leaned a bit too much. Kumiko shrugged.

"I dunno." She looked up at the ceiling lights, just starting to flicker. "I don't usually think this far ahead, but . . . y'know, sometimes you just can't help thinking about that stuff."

"I think that the most qualified person will lead the band, next year."

"Right." Kumiko didn't speak for a moment. "I guess it's just all this talk about college and Nationals and the future, it's making me think about stuff I don't want to think about."

"I get that." Reina leaned back further. "It doesn't do you any good to dwell on those things, though."

"What, 'the past and the future don't matter, all that matters is the now?'" Kumiko stood on tiptoes as she imitated some television character she'd forgotten the name of, some mimicry of pretentiousness.

"You could say that." Reina folded her hands behind her back. "Really, it's just stupid to think about it at all. You can't do anything about any of it. Neither can I. We're powerless, both of us." Reina pushed herself off the window until she was just a few inches from Kumiko's face. Her voice was still cold, still distant. "All you can do is change the tiny things and hope they amount to something better."

"Okay." Kumiko stepped back cautiously, as if Reina would break through the glass and fall if she walked away too quickly. "I have to, uh, head back to practice now, but I'll see you on the walk home."

"I'll see you then."

* * *

The sky was rather beautiful that night, Kumiko thought.

"You've been spacey all day, Kumiko!" Midori squeaked. "What's wrong?"

"It's, uh, n-nothing," she mumbled.

"I know that it's not nothing!" Hazuki snapped sharply, pointing to Kumiko as if she were a guilty defendant on death row. "Something's been bothering you ever since school started. I can sense these things, you know."

"It's . . . stress? I'm just not used to this workload, that's all."

"I'm stressed too," Midori retorted.

"We're just keeping up our positive attitudes, unlike you and Kousaka-san," Hazuki added. Reina looked up when her name was mentioned for hardly a second before she looked back down at the weeds sprouting from the sidewalk.

"I t-told you, I'm fine." A chilly gust of wind blew through the courtyard, and Kumiko hugged herself. "Really."

"It won't do you two any good to bother her with these questions," Reina said stiffly. "You should be focusing on your own issues."

"But we're her _friends,_ Kousaka-san!" Hazuki whined. "Especially now that she's trusted us with such an important secret, we can't just be blind to these things!"

"We were blind to a lot of things, Hazuki-chan," Midori whispered. Kumiko suddenly wished that the sidewalk's weeds would spring up and pull her down with them so that she could stop being a part of this conversation.

"In any case, the work in the following weeks won't be easy in the slightest. You should know that, or else you might as well drop out." Reina walked ahead a few paces as she spoke. Kumiko couldn't see her face.

"What's _with_ you lately?" Hazuki called after her as she walked further and further away. "I was just starting to like you, you know!" Midori put a comforting arm on Hazuki's shoulder, and she held it graciously. "I don't get it!" Reina turned briefly, and the light of a passing car cast her in a strange glow.

"What don't you get?" Hazuki froze, grip on the straps of her rainbow backpack tightening.

"Why . . . why you and Kumiko . . . nevermind." Kumiko ran ahead as Hazuki stood rooted to the sidewalk, but she heard a whisper of _"I just want to support everyone"_ carried through the wind.

* * *

"Hazuki's got a point, y'know." The train rattled along the tracks as Kumiko held her knees to her chest. "I guess we've both been kinda distant lately."

"I haven't been doing anything differently. You're the one who's changing."

"Everyone keeps saying that, but I'm _not._ I'm just going through the motions, dragging myself along, and if I'm _distant,_ then maybe that's just how I've always been."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you for the past year."

"I've just n-never thought of myself like that. It's weird. Things're all going so _fast,_ it's too much for me to _not_ shut myself off from it." Kumiko curled further into herself.

"You're contradicting yourself."

"I thought I was done with things changing when I started going to Kitauji. I had my fresh start, and that was it." She looked up at the flickering lights on the ceiling that had become oddly familiar. "It's all just weird."

"Right." Kumiko could hear the tiredness in Reina's voice, and she changed the subject the best she could.

"So, uh, should I still head to your house on Saturday?"

"If you're still up for it."

"I am."

"We'll do it, then." The sky looked beautiful outside, but all Kumiko could do was look at the girl beside her.

* * *

Kumiko scrolled aimlessly through old text messages that night, wrapped in a blanket that felt too hot when she wrapped herself in it and too cold when she pulled it away.

 **6/29/15**

 **Reina: The competition is tomorrow.**

 **Reina: Do you think that you're ready?**

 **Kumiko: yeah**

 **Kumiko: i do**

 **Kumiko: could we meet tomorrow morning?**

 **Kumiko: on the train i mean**

 **Kumiko: to get to school**

 **Reina: I don't see any reason not to.**

 **Reina: We'll get gold, I know we will.**

 _And we did,_ Kumiko thought, shutting off her phone. _And she did it all for Taki-sensei._ Memories of the grave of a woman she'd never met, a roaring waterfall, Reina's violet eyes glinting with resolve, all flashed through her mind like snapshots, and she grabbed the sides of her head to block them out.

"God, what kind of idiot was I?" she groaned out loud, smacking her face into a pillow. "It's all been for him, hasn't it? Of course she was upset during the auditions! It wasn't her ambition or her stubbornness or _anything,_ it was just him! Stupid Taki-sensei, stupid straight girl crushes, stupid-"

"Kumiko?" Kumiko froze when her mother opened her bedroom door, looking rather concerned. "One of your, erm, friends is here. I told her that it's late at night, that she needed to get home, but she said it was important. I couldn't send a teenage girl out into the street in the middle of the night, anyway." Natsuki - or at least someone who looked like Natsuki's silhouette, the lights were still off - strutted into Kumiko's room without another word, plopping down on the carpet.

"Hey," she said, as if she hadn't barged into the Oumae family apartment at a time when she probably should've been asleep.

"What're you doing here?" Kumiko groggily mumbled. "It's the middle of the night."

"My folks are out of town and Yuu- uh, Yoshikawa cancelled last minute, so I need a place to crash for the night."

"And you didn't think to warn me first?" Kumiko had lost her filter sometime around eleven, and she covered her mouth with her hand as soon as she realized how rude she sounded. Natsuki shrugged.

"I did. _Someone_ didn't check their texts." Kumiko looked down at her phone - glaringly bright against the dark of the room - and saw a string of texts that had been ignored in favor of her digital trip down memory lane.

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's not your fault. Everyone's a bit of a scatterbrain right now, myself included. I would've gone to Nozomi's, but she had Mizore over and I didn't want to be a third wheel, and it's not like I can exactly ask Momo if I, a senior, could stay at her house, when I've had a grand total of two conversations with her. It'd be weird." Kumiko nodded sagely.

"She's a good kid, though."

"Why're ya calling her _kid?_ It's the same age gap that there is between you and me, you don't see me calling you _kid."_ Kumiko flopped down onto the end of her bed as she clutched a pillow to her chest, now facing Natsuki with only about a foot between the two of them.

"I don't know."

"Afraid she'll take your spot in the competitions?" Natsuki teased. Kumiko whacked her with the pillow.

"You're not still mad about that, are you?" It was strange, the way Kumiko would always switch from joking to serious with such ease whenever she found herself talking to the older girl.

"I was never mad. You were better. I'm gonna play with everything I have this year and win Nationals right alongside you and Katou and Kousaka and the prez and everyone else. I didn't make it onto the A-team last year, but I will this time. I just hope you'll all be beside me when that happens." Kumiko smiled, suddenly feeling a spreading warmth in her veins, as if she'd just collapsed onto a hotel bed after hours of traveling, as if she'd found a strange sort of home.

"We'll shake on it," she said, extending a hand. "To Nationals." Natsuki took her hand.

"To Nationals." Kumiko sniffled, wiping away a stray tear with her free hand.

"Hey, don't cry- okay, okay, it's alright. The second year's stressful for everyone, don't worry about it. I'm here." Kumiko didn't say anything more that night as she rolled out a sleeping bag for Natsuki on the floor, but she felt just a little better the next morning when the older girl left at the crack of dawn with a crooked grin.

* * *

Kumiko wondered if it had all been a dream when she woke up again, scrambling to get ready for the school day. All she knew for sure was that she felt a powerful warmth in her chest, in her blood, a fierce feeling of determination that wasn't quite as unfamiliar as she'd have expected.

* * *

Kumiko didn't meet Reina at the train station that morning, instead hurrying ahead before the sun had fully risen. It was lonelier than she'd remembered, riding the train alone, but she tried not to think about it too hard.

 _We're going to Nationals again,_ she thought, tapping out a quick apology to Reina on her phone. _We're going to win gold._

* * *

She was the first student to arrive on campus, running to Taki's office as she tried to remember which room it was. The teacher lifted his head when Kumiko opened the door, waving calmly.

"Ah, Oumae-san," he said, setting down his headphones. Kumiko could see a video of last year's winners playing on the computer. "I wouldn't have expected you here so early. You usually head here with Kousaka-san, don't you?"

"I'm waiting for her to get here," she answered truthfully. "I was, uh, j-just wondering if I could have the key to the instrument storage."

"Of course. I'll just find it, give me a moment . . ." Taki rummaged through scattered sheets of paper and assorted knickknacks until he produced the key and handed it to Kumiko. She briefly felt his hand against hers as she took it, and she wondered just what it had been that had sent Reina into that near-frenzy when she'd touched his hand like that months ago. It felt calloused and slightly sweaty, with none of the electric touch that Kumiko had always associated with love. "Oumae-san?"

"Eh?"

"You can leave now. Good luck." Taki turned back to his work, and Kumiko hurried out the door to the instrument storage. Her euphonium rested just where she'd left it, and she hefted the heavy leather case from its shelf.

"It's just you and me for now, eh?" she murmured to the instrument as she walked outside. The sky was clear, a crisp wind ruffling her uniform, and she thought that perhaps this was what peace felt like. Kumiko sat down on her usual chair, resting the euphonium on her lap. "I guess we should start."

* * *

Reina approached the chair about a half hour later.

"I wasn't sure if you'd been kidnapped and forced to text that against your will," she said in what was probably her version of a joking tone. "Why'd you come so early?"

"I talked to someone and realized some things, I guess."

"Ah." Reina folded her arms. "You've been practicing this year's piece, I'd assume."

"Y-yeah. It's kinda weird, though."

"What is?"

"He's really not easing us into it. I mean, we're a week into class and we're already learning the piece we'll be playing at the competition. The competition that isn't for another two months."

"We lost a lot of our best this year. We can't afford to slack off." Reina squinted against the harsh sunlight, still standing outside of the comfortable shade. "You're probably thinking of Asuka-senpai, but there were others too. The trumpet section feels incredibly empty without its old leader."

"Well, yeah, but now we have the new students. They're good, too."

"Do they know that we really are aiming for Nationals?"

"I think Taki-sensei scared enough of them off that it's just the strong ones left," Kumiko chuckled. "He's pretty scary when he wants to be, which is all the time."

"They had better be," Reina said grimly. "I'm not going to give up on this, and I'm not going to let anyone drag me down, either."

"You're always so determined, Reina." Kumiko looked up at the clouds floating by. "Don't you ever take breaks?"

"I'm taking one tomorrow night," Reina responded, almost instantly.

"Right, right, about that, should I just . . . take the train over to your place? I dunno if I've ever been there before, so I guess I'll need to . . . y'know . . . _know_ where it is." Reina flushed pink, as if she hadn't considered that until now.

"Hold out your hand," she said, digging a pen from her pocket. Kumiko did so, keeping her other arm tucked around her euphonium. The pen tickled as it drew words across her skin, neat black ink in delicate strokes. Reina looked down and held Kumiko's arm to keep it steady, looking down at her eyes. Kumiko couldn't help but feel like a scribe receiving a message from her queen, the great palace walls rising around them, her hand turning electric. Reina clicked the cap back onto the pen, and Kumiko was snapped back to reality.

"T-thanks," she stuttered.

"Don't mention it." Reina stood beside her, taking her trumpet from its case. "We should try a duet. To see how much we know of the piece, I mean. I'm sure that he'll have us practice in an ensemble soon." Kumiko nodded as Reina lifted the gleaming trumpet to her lips and flipped to the first page of the song. "One, two, three." Kumiko closed her eyes and tried to think back to the mountain, the ease of their duet back then, but it felt simply out of tune today, distant and cold despite the clearness of Reina's notes. Thoughts swirled in her brain, suffocating as hot summer air, and soon she broke away from the euphonium and gasped for breath.

"I can't," she panted. Reina paused, lowering the trumpet in confusion.

"Why not?"

"I don't know, it just feels _wrong_ and I can't figure out how to fix it." A few other students started to enter the school, some of them younger and some of them older, and none of them cast a glance towards the two girls standing in the shade. "I probably should've practiced more during break."

"Nobody's expecting us to get back into the swing of things immediately."

"You are," Kumiko pointed out. "So are Hazuki and Midori."

"I don't see the problem. It just means that you have to practice more to get to the point you were at when last year ended, it can't be that hard."

 _How was I so carefree half an hour ago?_ "It's not that."

"What is it, then?"

"I don't know! I don't know what it is, b-but-"

"Oh, Kousaka-san, euphonium girl! I wasn't expecting to see you two here, mind if I join you?" Nozomi turned the corner with her flute held gingerly in her left hand as Mizore held her right. Reina bristled.

"Go ahead," Kumiko said, setting aside her bag to make room for the two third-years. "I forgot to say this earlier, but welcome back to the band, Nozomi-senpai." Nozomi flopped down on her back, resting on the soft grass.

"Thanks," she murmured. "I've missed it." Mizore rested beside her, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

"I've missed _you,_ " Mizore whispered. Kumiko couldn't help but feel as if she was interrupting something.

"I'm glad that we're all aiming for the Nationals this year," Reina said, seemingly oblivious to the incredibly blatant flirting happening hardly a foot away from her. "We'll win gold if we keep this up."

"Mm-hmm," Nozomi hummed. "You weren't even here for the old teacher. Taki-sensei's a damn blessing, let me tell you that. They were all so _lazy_ , those third-years. I _hated_ them." Nozomi clutched a fistful of grass in her hand. "You two never had to deal with that. It's a lot easier to have ambitions now, wanting to really go to Nationals and all that. I couldn't believe it when I heard that Kitauji had won the Kyoto competition. I couldn't even believe my ears, watching you all up there. You were _amazing,_ all of you, and I knew as soon as I saw it that I had to come back. Asuka-senpai made it a bit harder to do that, though, didn't she?" Nozomi laughed at her own comment.

"It would've disrupted the band," Reina retorted. Mizore flinched.

"I can't believe we spent so long pretending nothing had happened," she murmured. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, it's not your fault!" Nozomi insisted. "It was mine, but it's all behind us now!" The two third-years began to look up at the sky, the clouds beginning to disperse. "This is our last chance to play together with all we've got, Mizore. Let's not waste it on the past, alright?" Mizore nodded slowly, pressing her palm against Nozomi's and smiling cautiously, as if the world would fall away if she acted too forward.

"I'm looking forward to that," she whispered. Nozomi stood up.

"Anyway, I'd better be getting to class - my room's pretty much on the other end of campus - but I'm glad we four were able to have this chat! I'll see you at practice!" She quickly grabbed her bag and her flute, squeezing Mizore's hand one more time before disappearing around the corner.

"I should go too," Mizore added, and soon Kumiko and Reina were left alone together once more.

"They didn't even practice," Reina muttered. "They just talked."

"A lot of people aren't even here this early in the morning, Reina. They're probably just making up for lost time."

"Perhaps." Reina flipped back to the first page of the sheet music. "I think we have time for one more round."

Their music, distant and yet perfect in its pitch, rang across the campus.

* * *

Kumiko regretted waking up so early sometime around second period, when she found herself beginning to doze off as Hazuki dangled a keychain in front of her face.

 _"Ku-mi-ko,"_ she chastised, poking her in the shoulder. "You're gonna fail if you keep this up, we're only in the second week!"

"She's working hard, Hazuki-chan!" Midori squeaked. "Just . . . in her own way." Kumiko had doodled a gold trophy in the corner of her notes, decorated with penciled-in sparkles. Hazuki glanced at it for a moment before turning back to her work.

* * *

 _How am I going to talk to Natsuki? Should I just pretend that last night didn't happen? How? Do I tell her that she's renewed my passion or something? It's true that that's what happened, but does she need to know? Does she-_

"Kumiko, you're gonna-" Kumiko was promptly greeted by a door to the face. "-walk into the door," Hazuki finished. "I'll check in with Taki-sensei and tell him we're on our way to sectionals, I want to know if we'll be playing in an ensemble anytime soon."

"Okay," Kumiko muttered, rubbing her head where she'd smacked into the door. Hazuki tiptoed into the near-empty room as if she was interrupting something, though the only other person there was Taki.

"You're not the only one who wants to give it their all in the competition this year," Midori whispered, leaning on the doorway and looking up at Kumiko. "She wants to do this. It's amazing, really."

"What?"

"We've both been playing music for years." Midori rubbed the Tuba-kun charm on Kumiko's bag with a soft smile. "We've both grown to love it after a long time. She's only been into it for a year, but she knows just what she wants." Hazuki eagerly bounced on her feet as Taki said something indecipherable to her, a bright grin on her face. "It's the way music was meant to be used, to make people happy."

"You're really wise when you want to be, Midori." Kumiko patted Eupho-kun on its little head.

"Of course! I have to, otherwise we'd just be left without weird philosophies, and who'd want that?" Kumiko was about to respond when Hazuki bounded back to the entrance.

"Taki-sensei said that we might get to play in the ensemble on Monday!" she cheered. "C'mon, now, we can't waste another minute!" Kumiko couldn't even register what she'd said before she was dragged down the hallway with Hazuki's warm, slightly sweaty hand pulling her along.

* * *

The trio was greeted by Momo sitting alone in the classroom when they arrived.

"Have you three seen Nakagawa-senpai?" she asked instantly.

"A 'hello' wouldn't hurt," Hazuki muttered. Midori elbowed her.

"N-no, I haven't seen her," Kumiko admitted. "She might be-"

"Hey, everyone, I'm here!" Natsuki kicked open the door with the sheet music precariously balanced on top of her euphonium case. Gotou and Riko followed, both holding stands. "Sorry for the delay, the teacher kept us after class for college counseling."

"Um, N-Nakagawa-senpai, I don't mean to be rude, b-but when do you think my euphonium will get here?" Momo nervously adjusted her glasses as she spoke, looking more at the ground than at Natsuki. "I'm more than willing to wait, of course, but-"

"Don't worry about it." Natsuki clapped a hand on Momo's shoulder, and Kumiko could've sworn she saw the younger girl turn every shade of red there was. "It'll be here soon. I can give ya private lessons once it's here, to make up for the delay."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh, Natsuki, it's so lovely to see you getting along with the underclassmen!" Riko chirped. "Now, we should get to practicing. We have to be in top form for ensemble on Monday." Natsuki straightened her back.

"Yeah, of course. Okay, kiddos, from the top."

* * *

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?" Kumiko asked when the road broke off in the direction of Reina's house. Reina nodded.

"You can text me when you're on your way."

"I will."

"I'd best be going, then." Reina walked off, her dark hair flowing in the breeze, and Kumiko looked down at the neat writing on her hand.

 _Tomorrow._

* * *

 **a/n:** the song that they're playing is "Eclipse" by arnold rosner


	4. Moonlight Concerto

**a/n:** holy crap i had so much fun writing this chapter

(for the best reading experience, listen to lady marlene by katzenjammer when kumiko starts playing a song from her phone)

* * *

"God, what was I _thinking?"_ Kumiko clutched the ends of her hair in frustration, flopping face-down onto her bed. "I can't do this! I can't! I'm supposed to be at Reina's in two hours, _sleeping at her house,_ but what am I doing instead? Yelling at _you."_ She shot a glare at the round cactus sitting across from her. "It wouldn't kill you to talk back once in a while, y'know."

"Kumiko? The mail's here. Who keeps sending you these packages?" Kumiko rushed out the door, narrowing her eyes at the cactus one last time.

"We're not done," she whispered to it before picking up the package wrapped in dainty pink paper. "It's, uh, a program from a magazine," she said to her mother. "You get a membership with them and they send you free stuff every week."

"Seems excessive."

"It's just a fun little thing, I have to keep doing homework now, bye!" Kumiko strutted back into her room with the package in her arms. She had torn it halfway open before she had even sat down.

 _To the young one-_

 _What a strange thing life is. What an unpredictable, wonderful thing it can be._

 _I'm getting ahead of myself. Life sucks, a lot, especially when you're in high school. I really need to stop sugarcoating these things, it's getting to be a bit of a problem. Anyways, anyways, I'd be willing to bet that you're nervous about a certain something right now, enough to turn to something as silly as fate for hope it'll turn out alright._

Kumiko set down the note for a moment, wondering how her "caretaker" had hit the nail right on the head.

 _I get that. I do, truly. It's not something that little trinkets can really fix, but little trinkets are my specialty, and so that's what I'll give you. So, for a bit of luck and de-stressing, I've sent you something rather calming._

Kumiko dug through the box and found a squishy ball with a music note on the front of it.

 _Good luck._

 _~Someone who wants you to succeed._

* * *

The ball, as it turned out, helped more than Kumiko had expected. She walked to Reina's house with a sleeping back and some clean clothes hefted on her back like battle armor, the streets a battlefield of their own.

 _I'm reading too many crappy novels,_ she thought. She looked again at the address written in now-faded ink on her hand. It matched the bronze-plate numbers on the French doors in front of her perfectly.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered as she rang the doorbell. The doors creaked open, as grand as Kumiko would've expected to see from the Kousaka household. Reina stood in front of her, clad in a baggy sweater and sweatpants. Kumiko tried, with little success, to stop herself from squeaking at how cute she looked.

"You're here," Reina said. Kumiko nodded.

"Did you think I wouldn't come?" Reina didn't give her an answer, instead simply leading her by the hand into the living room. Kumiko flushed pink at the contact.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here this early, so I suppose I should apologize for my . . . attire."

"It's f-fine, don't worry, it's not like this is some kind of formal thing." Kumiko was expecting Reina to stop in the living room, but she continued to the spiraling staircase without even pausing to look back. "Should I drop my stuff off in your room?"

"That's where we're going, so yes." Reina didn't look quite as poised against the high ceilings and flowing drapes of her house, no longer the queen that Kumiko had always assumed her to be. "Unless you want to do something else, of course."

"Nope, I don't want to do anything else, your room's fine!" Reina pushed open the door to her room, and Kumiko dropped her things as soon as she took a single glance. It looked lived-in, far more so than the rest of the house did, and yet there was the touch of elegance that Kumiko had always associated with Reina herself.

"I didn't clean it up earlier, I figured I'd finish the weekend's homework before you arrived so that I wouldn't have it hanging over my head." Reina flopped down on her bed, which Kumiko idly noticed was far too big for one person.

 _Maybe she sleeps weirdly._

"Was there anything you wanted to do in particular?" Reina's voice was breathy and relaxed - she seemed, for lack of less literal words, to be truly at home. Kumiko settled down beside her on a stray pillow on the floor, afraid of overstepping her boundaries by sitting on the bed itself.

"Not really. I was thinking that maybe we could watch a movie or something? Maybe we could even do a marathon."

"A marathon of what?" Kumiko shrugged.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe cheesy teen sitcoms? Or superhero movies, we could try watching some of the good superhero movies. Natsuki said that there were a few that I needed to check out."

"Which, superhero movies or cheesy teen sitcoms?"

"Both." Kumiko rolled out her sleeping bag. "Ooh, maybe we could alternate between the two." Reina flipped over, looking at Kumiko from upside down, her dark hair spilling down the sides of the bed. She raised an eyebrow, a feat made rather difficult by her position.

"Wouldn't that get a bit confusing? They'd blur together."

"Maybe they would." Kumiko looked up at the plastic stars scattered across Reina's ceiling. "Maybe that wouldn't be too bad, though."

"Hmm?"

"I dunno, it might be sorta cool, seeing the contrast between them, y'know?"

"There's only one way to find out, really." Reina slid down from the bed until she sat next to Kumiko. "I can get my computer from downstairs, there's nothing better to do than to waste our time on this sort of thing." She stood up, smoothing out the rumpled in her sweater. "I've been practicing all day, in any case."

"R-right." Kumiko watched Reina's retreating figure leave the room, hurrying downstairs. She looked around the room from where she could see. Dainty-looking fairy lights were strung around, the pale lavender walls wide and vast and decorated with childhood awards in black wooden frames. It was cold in the room, she noticed.

"Kumiko?" Kumiko jolted up as Reina entered the room.

"Eh?"

"Is something wrong?"

"H-how long have you been standing there?"

"A few seconds at most." Reina nonchalantly sat down beside her, laptop resting precariously on her legs. "Which one should we start with?" Kumiko grinned deviously, earning her a playful elbow in her side.

" _High School Musical,_ obviously."

"Obviously."

* * *

Night had fallen before Kumiko even knew it, the blue-tinted moon hanging outside of Reina's windows, but the stars in the room held far more mystery to her, far more intrigue. She'd hardly caught the plots of half the movies, leaning against the foot of Reina's bed, but that didn't matter to her in the slightest.

"Did that one count as a superhero film or a cheesy teen romcom?" Reina wondered. She put her pointer finger to her chin when she asked the question, something that Kumiko found really, _really_ adorable - not that she'd ever admit it.

"I don't know, honestly," Kumiko chuckled. "I mean, I guess it's both? I couldn't tell."

"Both." Reina pressed herself closer, intertwining her fingers with Kumiko's. "You're right, I think it's both."

"That means you're right, too."

"Hmm?" A fake-sounding pop song played as the credits rolled.

"The thing you said earlier, about how they'd start to blur into each other? We couldn't figure out which one this was. You won, Reina."

"I wasn't aware that this was a competition."

"It wasn't, but you still won." Kumiko had no idea where she was going with this, but she'd seen enough bad flirting techniques and desperate world-ending kisses in the past few hours that she knew it was going _somewhere._

"Alright, I'll play along." Reina's words were still careful, as careful as ever, but the coldness that she'd feigned for the past week or so was nearly gone. "What's my prize, if I've won this thing that isn't even a competition?" Kumiko tugged the ends of a blanket in mock-deep thought.

"Hmm . . . you get to pick the next movie."

"We've been picking these movies together all day."

"Yeah, and now you get to pick one all on your own. I can't say no to it, no matter what it is." Reina's lips quirked into a sinister smile, and she snatched the laptop from where it rested on the carpet with near-superhuman speed. "It doesn't matter what it is, I have to say yes."

"Perfect." Reina pressed play, and Kumiko could only hold back her laughter as the opening scenes of _Paper Towns_ and an old _Batman_ movie played at the same time on the laptop's glowing screen.

* * *

"It's getting late," Kumiko yawned after Reina's two movies had ended. "D'you think we should shut off the computer?"

"If you want." Reina closed the laptop, her hand resting on top of it for a moment before she stood up and promptly pulled off her shirt. Kumiko let out a yelp almost instantly.

"T-that isn't even the first time you've done that!" she forced out, her eyes drawn to the small of Reina's back. "I could, uh, go and change in the bathroom- actually, that's exactly what I'm going to do, w-where is it?"

"Down the hall, the first door on the left," Reina calmly replied.

"Yep, got it!" Kumiko gathered her pajamas in her arms and walked out the door - though not before walking directly into it. "I'm fine, don't worry!"

"You just passed the bathroom," Reina deadpanned.

"I don't think I did!" Kumiko barged into the bathroom, still flustered and still compromised. "Okay, calm down," she whispered to herself once she'd slammed the door. The marble walls were cold, and she pressed a hand against them to calm herself. "Reina's changing in the next room. My gay ass is not bothered by this at all. Not at all. Not at all. Not-"

 **Hazuki: sooooooooooo**

 **Hazuki: hows it going?**

Kumiko sighed, pushing her pajamas to the side to answer the buzzing phone in her pocket.

 **Kumiko: it's going fine**

 **Kumiko: we watched some movies**

 **Hazuki: movies huh?**

 **Hazuki: have you moved in with her yet?**

 **Kumiko: what?**

 **Hazuki: isnt that a thing**

 **Hazuki: about lesbians moving in together really quick**

 **Hazuki: its what natsuki said when i asked her**

 **Kumiko: you...asked natsuki...**

 **Hazuki: yep!**

Kumiko made a mental note to apologize to Natsuki on Hazuki's behalf later.

"Kumiko? Are you alright in there?" Kumiko dropped the phone, letting it clatter to the floor.

"Y-yeah, I'll be right there!" she called.

 **Kumiko: i have to go now**

 **Kumiko: i'll tell you about it later**

Scrambling to pull on her pajamas, Kumiko hopped out of the bathroom with one leg still stuck through the pants.

"Sorry for the delay," she mumbled. Reina stood in the doorway with an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"You look like you've flown right into a warzone," she quipped. "Do you need help?" Kumiko was sure that the shade of red she'd turned was enough to set fire to the wooden floorboards beneath her.

"N-nope, I don't need any help, none at all, nope!" Reina shrugged.

"I set out your sleeping bag. I should mention that the floor's hard, though." Kumiko thought of Reina's very large bed with a powerful feeling in her chest.

"I don't mind the floor," she lied. Reina didn't ask any more questions about Kumiko's level of comfort after that, lying down on her own fluffy mattress. She looked something like a fairytale princess, clad in white silken pajamas, and Kumiko flipped over onto her pillow with a muffled noise that sounded like a kitten screaming. The lights were off, and the plastic stars had just started to glow.

"They're nice, aren't they?" Kumiko flipped back over to look. Reina pointed to the ceiling.

"Yeah. Where'd you get them?"

"I don't remember, to be quite honest. I've had them ever since I was a little kid, there are pictures of me holding up my first toy trumpet in here with the stars glowing behind me."

"There are pictures of you as a little kid?"

"Well, obviously. My parents documented more or less everything about my early childhood. I think they wanted to make sure that I'd have material for my eventual memoir."

"Are you going to write one? A memoir, I mean."

"I doubt it. It's just another form of selling out, as far as I'm concerned. I'd much rather remember my experiences as they were, instead of as a romanticized version. That's what I'd end up with, if I wrote a memoir." Reina paused, clutching her bedsheets with one hand as she reached out for the stars on her ceiling with the other. "Besides, you have to have done something important to warrant a memoir." Her voice had softened, and Kumiko sat up.

"W-what do you mean? What about becoming-"

"I'm going to become special. That's a personal goal, and it's probably something I'm going to call stupid in ten, twenty, thirty years. You can't write memoirs about teenage delusions." Reina curled closer into herself. "I don't want to think about the future." There was a waver in her voice, a break from the regality she'd always held herself in, and Kumiko felt as if she was seeing the girl on the bed above her slowly break apart into someone smaller, someone without the air of mystery she'd grown to expect.

She didn't mind it at all.

"I don't want to think about it either, if that helps," she murmured softly.

"I was expecting to enter this year with a clean slate." Reina's voice had lost the distant feeling from the past few days, and Kumiko was grateful for that as she listened in rapt attention. "I was expecting to leave most of these . . . childish feelings behind." Her words were careful, as if she was plucking them from a list with delicacy.

"Taki-sensei?"

"A lack thereof, actually."

"What?"

"I'm nearly seventeen years old. I should be . . . daydreaming about him, shouldn't I?" The way that Reina said the word _daydreaming_ made its meaning uncomfortably clear to Kumiko, and the thought of Taki appearing in those sorts of fantasies made her want to vomit.

"Not necessarily." Kumiko tried to call back every article she'd ever read, but her mind turned up blank.

"Maybe it's simply more powerful than that, maybe it's a better sort of love." Reina's words sounded forced and fake, but Kumiko stayed quiet. "Or maybe it's nothing at all, just a silly little girl with a crush."

 _I know how that is._ "I mean, it doesn't really matter. You don't have to know this stuff right away, right? We're just in the middle of high school. It doesn't mean much."

"I just . . . feel like there should be something _more._ Something like the stories, with electricity and fireworks and that feeling of . . . of just _knowing._ I hardly feel like I know anything." Reina turned her face away from the stars, down to the patterns on her bedsheets. Kumiko stood up, wriggling out of the coziness of the sleeping bag. Reina patted the side of her bed.

"Can I . . . ?" Reina nodded, and Kumiko settled down next to her.

"You don't seem to have any of these doubts. How?"

"It's called being a lesbian, Reina. I never had any interest in guys, and I knew that pretty quickly." Reina tilted her head to the side.

"What about Tsukamoto?" Kumiko had to force back a laugh.

"I don't have _anything_ going on with him, believe me."

"I'd figured as much."

"Anyway, I think you just need to . . . give it time, on the Taki-sensei thing." Kumiko twiddled her thumbs nervously, biting back words she feared she'd regret. "You told him how you felt. Now all we can do is wait, right? He just didn't know, maybe he will in the future, maybe he won't."

"You're awfully poetic late at night, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Nope, you'd be the first." Kumiko looked back up at the ceiling. "You're right, they are pretty." Reina stood up, sliding off her bed. "What're you doing?"

"I wanted to see the real ones." Kumiko blinked. Reina flung open the window, which Kumiko now realized was a door blocked by a low-standing desk, opening out to a small balcony. "You can look too, if you want." Kumiko nodded, blindly traipsing through the room until she reached Reina's side. Stars dotted the velvety-blue sky above her, shining brilliantly.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. Reina wrapped her hand around the white-painted railing.

"I used to daydream about having some grand romantic night out here," she said. "It was something people would do in old movies - dancing chest-to-chest, you know, whispering lovely words to each other as the lady giggled in her billowing dress."

"Yeah." Kumiko couldn't bite back what she said next. "Why don't we do it, then?"

"Do what?"

"Dance together. I could play something from my phone."

"I don't see why not," Reina murmured hesitantly. Kumiko tapped a slow song and turned up the volume as high as it'd go. Reina took her hands into her own carefully, as if they were made of glass. It soon became clear that neither girl knew how to dance in the slightest, but Kumiko couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face with every clumsy step. She spun Reina around, the moon glowing overhead, her silky pajamas billowing in the chilled wind. The two of them danced in circles, softly, and Reina pressed her face against Kumiko's shoulders.

"I never learned how to waltz," Kumiko whispered, though it was obvious.

"Neither did I," Reina replied. They had started to make their way back into the bedroom, the window still open, the plastic stars just as bright overhead. She twirled Kumiko and dipped her, catching her just before she hit the soft carpet.

"You really didn't learn?" Kumiko teased, and suddenly the two of them were chest-to-chest again, foreheads touching, warm smiles on their faces as they waltzed back to the far corners of the room and collapsed back onto the bed, laughing. "You're a natural, then." Reina inched closer, and Kumiko returned in kind. The bed was soft, so wonderfully soft, and she could just about taste the breath on Reina's lips.

"So are you," Reina murmured, moving her hand to rest on Kumiko's neck. Kumiko shivered pleasantly, and she knew just how she was supposed to act, as if she were working on autopilot - threading her fingers through Reina's soft hair, closing her eyes - when her phone beeped very loudly from the balcony. Reina jumped, skittering away from the bed as if she had just realized what she was doing, as if she'd just woken up in a crime scene. Kumiko snatched the phone from where it sat to see a string of messages scroll through her lockscreen.

 **Hazuki: hey!**

 **Hazuki: just wanted to see how youre doing**

 **Hazuki: hope its going well with kousaka-san**

 **Hazuki: ;)**

Kumiko groaned. Reina peered over her shoulder, casually resting her hand on it like a curious cat.

"Was it something important?" she asked. Kumiko shook her head, shutting off the phone.

"It's nothing," she said. "Just Hazuki being her usual self."

"Oh." Reina headed back to her bed, pajamas still flapping slightly in the air conditioning. Kumiko settled back into the sleeping bag, nesting down in its small, cozy confines, and she was nearly convinced that she was dreaming when Reina reached out a hand to her.

"Do you, uh, w-want me to . . . go in there with you?"

"We can just stay like this." Kumiko took Reina's hand, feeling it pulling her up just slightly. "I don't mind it like this."

* * *

Kumiko didn't say anything when she awoke in the middle of the night to see Reina silently sleeping beside her, still as a corpse and breathing softly. The plastic stars and the real stars still twinkled side-by-side, and Kumiko felt a gentle stirring in her chest, a great warmth. She never wanted it to end.

* * *

"I must have rolled off my bed," Reina mused that morning. "I'm sorry if it was a bother."

"N-no, it wasn't!" Kumiko insisted, her voice still heavy with sleep. "Really, don't worry about it. I didn't even notice. If anything, it's my fault for-" Reina looked slightly above Kumiko's face. "What is it?"

"Your bedhead is awful," she laughed. Kumiko smushed her face into the nearest pillow to hide her expression, something she'd become rather good at lately.

"Shut up," she muttered.

"It's cute."

"It's _not."_

"Would you like to bet on that?" Reina smirked, readying a pillow for battle. Kumiko snorted.

"I've been called the pillow-fighting master, you know," she said. She flung a pillow at Reina, who evaded it easily.

"By who?"

"Myself." Reina's pillow hit her square in the face. "You might just be the new champion, though."

"I'm glad to hear it." Reina took back the pillow, holding it to her chest. "And about last night, we don't have to talk about it." Kumiko felt the previous night's events rush over her like a salty tidal wave - sharp and overpowering, but not unpleasant.

"We don't." Kumiko wanted to, more than she could ever say - she wanted to dance with Reina again, she wanted to try sitting with her on the bed again, she wanted that night again and again, but she knew that she couldn't say anything about it. Reina's fingers tightened around the lace of the pillow, eyes looking anywhere but Kumiko, and she knew that bringing it up would only cause trouble for the both of them.

"I'm glad that we did this, though." Reina smiled softly. "I was afraid that everything that happened last year was some sort of . . . fluke. A temporary thing that we formed out of the circumstances of the band." She held Kumiko's hand casually, as if it meant nothing at all, and Kumiko wondered if she felt the electricity too.

"Of course it's not, Reina."

"Still, with everything that happened, I couldn't help but fear for our friendship." The word _friendship_ made Kumiko flinch once again. "It's nice to know that we're more resilient than that."

"W-well, yeah. I mean, it's like the red string of fate, right? It can be tangled and stretched, but never . . . never broken." The meaning behind the legend didn't seem to be lost on Reina, whose eyes widened as Kumiko spoke.

"I can walk you back to your house, if you want," she said.

"Yeah, that'd be nice." Kumiko stood up on wobbly legs, offering a hand to Reina, who took it with a quiet sigh.

"I'll get dressed now, it'd be awkward if I walked you home in my pajamas." Kumiko nodded in agreement. Reina yanked open a dresser drawer, rifling through it, while Kumiko gathered her clothes from their pile on the floor.

"I'll, uh, be in the bathroom if you need me."

"Don't walk into the door this time!" Reina called after her as she headed down the hallway. Kumiko checked her phone, which had a rather long string of messages from Hazuki and just one from Natsuki.

 **Hazuki: heyyyyy**

 **Hazuki: hey kumiko**

 **Hazuki: its the middle of the night**

 **Hazuki: are you two having some big moonlight confession?**

 **Hazuki: i hope so**

 **Hazuki: good luck**

 **Hazuki: kousaka-sans lucky to have you**

 **Hazuki: i mean i dont swing that way but if youre with her then tsukamotos single and his big crush is a gay!**

 **Hazuki: at least one of us can get our fairytale happy ending**

Kumiko looked at the texts in surprise.

 _That was . . . surprisingly heartfelt._ She looked at the other text and promptly had to hold back a laugh.

 **Natsuki: katou's got the innocence of an eight-year-old should i tell her what scissoring is**

Kumiko tapped back replies as she changed into her daytime clothes, leaning against the marble walls as she did so.

 **Kumiko: thanks hazuki**

 **Kumiko: it went well**

"Kumiko, I'm ready to leave if you are!" Reina called from downstairs. Kumiko pulled on her last pant leg and hopped back into the bedroom to get her sleeping bag.

"Yeah, I'll be here in a minute!" she called back.

 **Kumiko: tell her or don't, she'll probably figure it out eventually anyway**

* * *

Kumiko breathed in the early-morning air with a contented sigh.

"It's still pretty cold," she noted. "For early April, I mean."

"I suppose."

"I wouldn't mind if it stayed like this for a while longer, though. I've always loved the cold." Reina looked at her curiously.

"Is that so?" Kumiko eagerly nodded.

"The crisp air, the snow, the feeling of coziness when you're in your house, they're all pretty special. I know, I know, it's dumb to say that sort of thing, but it's true." She jammed her hands in her pockets, feeling the unraveling threads lining them.

"I've always preferred the spring, to be quite honest." Reina looked up at a cherry blossom drifting by, one of the last to fall from the trees. "New beginnings, the revival of life." She let out a gentle chuckle. "I'm really not helping my own case on being pretentious, am I?"

"Nope."

"Your apartment's right ahead, isn't it?" Reina pointed to the familiar building in the distance, shrouded in a light fog.

"Yeah." Kumiko silently dreaded returning home, leaving Reina behind - forcing herself to set the previous night aside in the past and to continue as if nothing had happened. "You've been there before."

"Once, when you were sick." Reina's eyes clouded over with the memory. "You were fast asleep when I showed up. Your mother didn't ask me to leave or anything, she just opened the door to your room and told me not to wake you."

"I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you there," Kumiko admitted. "I figured it must've been a fever dream or something."

"Why?" Kumiko shrugged.

"How many times have _you_ been visited by a beautiful girl in the beginning of exam season while you were bedridden with a cold without any warning?"

"Fair enough." Reina stopped at the foot of the building's doorway, as if she were a vampire waiting to be let in. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Y-yeah. I'll meet you at the train station." Kumiko had heard of hearts budding and bursting, feelings of love becoming too vast to be held in such a small vessel such as the heart, but she'd never believed in it until now. The feelings of unease she'd felt at the beginning of the year seemed to dissipate, and all she could do to show her gratitude was happily wave.

"Goodbye, Kumiko."

"Bye, Reina."

* * *

 _Oh, to be young and in love._

Somewhere, far away, someone sat with a pen and a roll of paper, writing a letter to a young girl dancing alone in her room.

 _What a wondrous feeling it is, what a rare feeling it is._

* * *

Kumiko had flung away any reservations she'd had about her feelings towards Reina, instead letting herself be flung headfirst into the warmth that those feelings offered. She danced in circles with Tuba-kun in her arms, a dorky smile worn proudly on her face. Things, it seemed, had finally started to tip in her favor. She couldn't wait for Monday.

* * *

Kumiko wondered if things would be different when she walked to the train station the following morning, Tuba-kun and Eupho-kun dangling from her bag as she hummed _Eclipse_ to herself. She'd spent most of the previous day alternating between dancing to her own old CDs and trying to memorize the euphonium parts of the song. It had been a day without fear, without reservations, the first she'd had in a long time, and she treasured it greatly.

"Hello, Kumiko." Kumiko looked up to see Reina warmly smiling at her from the bench as the train rolled into the station.

"H-hey." Reina stepped onto the train, reaching out a hand to Kumiko.

"We should find seats before they fill up, the early-morning commute is awful." Kumiko nodded in agreement, staring down at her hand joined with Reina's. It should've been a familiar feeling by now, for how often they held hands, but it still felt like the birth of a new universe each time.

 _I really can be pretentious sometimes, can't I?_

"What was that?" Kumiko let out a yelp.

"I said that out loud?"

"You did." Reina sat down on the nearest open seat, and Kumiko quickly joined her. "I won't press you on it, though. We have more important things to think about."

"Like what?" _Like last night?_ she thought, though she kept those particular thoughts quiet.

"Taki-sensei said that we'd play in an ensemble today. We're skipping right over SunFes, pouring all of our energy into the competitions. It's either a brilliant idea or a terrible one."

"Both, probably." Kumiko noticed that she'd been jiggling her right leg, and put a hand on it to calm it. "He really wants us to win gold this year."

"Of course. He knows what the band is capable of, now, there's no reason why he wouldn't demand everything from us this year." Reina paused for a moment. "Besides, his contract with the school only lasts two years." Reina looked down at the metal floor of the train. "He'll be leaving next year."

"Oh." Kumiko didn't know quite what to say. "I didn't know."

"There's no reason for you to have known. I don't think anyone was supposed to - I overheard my mother talking about it on the phone, 'the old teacher will be back next year and the school board thinks it best that Taki-sensei leaves after this year,' that's what she said. I don't even know who she was talking to." The train stopped, and the two girls walked off, side-by-side. "It's no matter, though."

"What?" There was a strange apathy in Reina's tone, for how highly she regarded the teacher, so unlike the vulnerability she'd shown on Saturday night.

"We can't worry about the future. We have to keep practicing, for everyone's sakes, so we can win gold."

"R-right." Kitauji's campus, partially obscured by the leftovers of the previous day's fog, came into view. "I'll get the keys and then get my euph from the music room, maybe we could practice outside?"

"I'd like that." Reina clasped Kumiko's hand one more time before heading off to the usual practicing spot, and Kumiko soon heard her soft melodies drifting from the yard as she walked to Taki's office.

"It's still strange to see you without Kousaka-san," the teacher said. "Are you waiting for her again?" Kumiko shook her head.

"She's outside, I'm just getting the keys to the room. Uh, speaking of which, could I please h-have them?" Taki plucked them from his desk and dropped them into Kumiko's hands.

"Good luck," he murmured. "I hope to see your playing at its very best in the ensemble." The teacher nudged the large cardboard box sitting under his chair further behind the desk as Kumiko walked away.

* * *

Kumiko and Reina played the duet once again, but it felt warmer this time, far more in sync and soulful, and as Kumiko closed her eyes and raised her face to the wind she thought that this was how music was supposed to be played.

 _I'm starting to sound like Midori,_ she thought. Reina looked to be at peace beside her, trumpet played with the mastery that could only be expected of her. _This is nice. I just hope the ensemble goes well._

* * *

Momo's eyes widened as she ripped open the cardboard box and flung away white packing peanuts with vigor. Natsuki stood a few feet behind her with a hand on her hip, her smile proud and crooked.

"It's a euphonium!" Momo squealed. "This is like Christmas, thank you, thank you!"

"She does know that it's not actually hers, right?" Yuuko whispered.

"What're you even doing here, Prez? Aren't ya supposed to be getting ready for the ensemble practice?"

"I'm checking all of the sections to make sure that _they're_ ready, in case you must know," Yuuko huffed. "Your section is just the first one I've looked at." Natsuki tugged on her ribbon.

"Ah, is that so?" she snickered.

"Don't get any ideas. You were just closest to the music room." Momo looked up from cradling the new euphonium.

"Actually, I think the clarinets are-"

"I didn't ask for your opinion!" Yuuko bristled, looking like an agitated cat. Natsuki pointed to her and mouthed _she doesn't mean it_ to a rather concerned-looking Momo.

"Now, now, we really need to stop this bickering," Riko piped up. "Taki-sensei will be expecting the best of us today, so we should give that to him, and nothing less."

"Yeah!" Hazuki cheered. "Okay, let's go!"

* * *

"You've all been practicing very hard, I'm sure, so this should go smoothly." Taki looked down at the band from his conductor's stand, where sixty or so students sat, tense, instruments in their arms like babies. "Moritomo-san, since you received your instrument in an . . . unorthodox manner and therefore had no time to practice the piece, you'll sit out." Momo nodded eagerly from her chair in the corner of the room. "I'll evaluate your performance later on."

"Thank you, Sensei," she murmured.

"Now, one, two, three."

The song rang through the very school, and Kumiko allowed herself to be swept up in the feeling of playing in an ensemble, that wondrous sense of belonging.

The song faded out, and Kumiko broke free from her euphonium with a pant. She glanced at Reina, who looked back at her with a nod. Taki straightened his back.

"Good, but it could be better. Trombone, your performance was weak. Oumae-san, try to focus a bit more next time." Kumiko flinched. "Katou-san, you've displayed improvement, but don't let that be the only thing you hinge yourself upon. Drums, try to stay on tempo next time." Kumiko tried to blink back tears, without much success. Natsuki looked to the girl next to her.

"Is everything okay?" Kumiko nodded, wiping away the tears with a smile. "Y'know, Taki-sensei's just hard on ya because-"

"I'm glad." She looked up to the teacher, who continued to lecture the various students on exactly what they were doing wrong. "I'm so, so glad, Natsuki."

* * *

"You're in a good mood today," Hazuki noted. Reina and Midori had stayed behind to tutor some of the first-years, and so it was just the two of them walking down the sidewalk to the train below the purple sky. "I mean, you're _skipping_ and _humming._ I didn't even know you _could_ hum."

"I'm not humming."

"You were."

"I was _not_ humming." Hazuki smirked.

"You were, Kumiko! You definitely were!" She leaned in close, looking Kumiko right in the eye. "Happiness is a good look on you."

"T-thanks?" Hazuki folded her arms behind her head as she continued walked.

"Don't mention it! I'm glad to be the supportive one on the sidelines, and Kousaka-san's . . . nice. Sometimes." Kumiko raised an eyebrow.

"Sometimes?"

"She's kinda rude, isn't she? It's like she thinks that she's better than me or something." Hazuki hunched her shoulders in a display of pouting that made her look like she was a sulking child. "I want to be her friend, I really do - I want to be the best ally I can be, and befriending my friend's girlfriend and supporting your love is something good, right?" Hazuki hoisted up the straps of her backpack, flashing a wide grin.

"She's not my-"

"Don't play coy with me! I know, you've got that look of a girl in love, and I'm no stranger to that! I'm just saying, be careful. She loves her trumpet a lot, I don't wanna see you get hurt because of that." Hazuki laughed softly, unclipping her barrette and running a hand through her hair. "I like Tsukamoto and Tsukamoto likes you and you like Kousaka-san and Kousaka-san likes her trumpet. It's a whole kaboodle, that's how I see it." Kumiko snorted. "What's so funny?"

"Did you- did you just say _kaboodle?"_ Hazuki puffed up her cheeks like a chipmunk and stubbornly looked away.

"I did not!"

"If you didn't say _kaboodle,_ I didn't hum."

"Deal." Hazuki walked ahead a few steps, snapping her barrette back and forth in the palm of her hand. "Yeah, and Kumiko?"

"Yeah?"

"I really hope it works out for you two."

* * *

Kumiko crouched to face the cactus with a glare.

"Okay, buddy, we're going to have a talk," she said. "Let's review: I'm getting weirdly specific gifts from a stranger in the mail, Hazuki's somehow both the best and most annoying ally I've met, Natsuki and Yoshikawa-senpai are both stressed over a euphonium, Taki-sensei is working the band harder than he ever has, and the girl I like is sending mixed messages." The cactus didn't respond, as usual. "It's not going _badly,_ not at all, b-but it's still _weird._ " Kumiko leaned back to look out the window. "I'm expecting it all to come crashing down. Something's gonna happen, and I don't know if I'll be ready for it."

"Kumiko! Dinner!"

"I'll be there in a minute, Mom!" Kumiko looked back at the cactus. "I know, it's dumb, but it's just all going really well and that's scaring me a little. What comes up must come down, y'know? And Reina, she's amazing, but what if I've been reading it all wrong?" Saturday night flashed through her mind with such intensity that she visibly flinched. "I probably am. Reading it all wrong, I mean." The cactus's prickles wavered slightly in the air-conditioned breeze. "Don't give me that look."

"It's going to get cold!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming!" Kumiko stood up, giving the cactus one last dirty look before she left the room.

* * *

Reina waited at the train station the next morning, as she always did, and Kumiko stepped onto the train with her, shoulders brushing casually.

"We'll probably be holding auditions soon," Reina mused.

"Already? It's only been two weeks, what about the first-years?"

"Most of them already have a fair bit of experience, some of them are even better than the third-years. It's just as I said before. Taki-sensei expects the best of us now, he won't pull any punches."

"Was he . . . pulling punches before?" Kumiko remembered the way the teacher had ripped into the inexperienced students early on the previous year, all while wearing that calm smile on his face.

"Probably. I can't know for sure, though." Reina took a deep breath, hugging her knees to her chest. "It's impossible to know what he's thinking. You're a bit similar to him in that way, actually. You're both distant."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Maybe." Reina smugly looked away. "In any case, we'll both need to be nothing less than the best to make it onto the A-team." Kumiko nodded in agreement.

"There're only two euphs, so-"

"What about the newcomer? Moritomo, I think. You can't forget about her."

"You mean Momo? She's great, but she just got her euph yesterday. If Taki-sensei's really picking who'll play in the competition so soon, she'll probably have to wait until next year." Reina shrugged.

"I can recall a certain second-year bested by an awkward newcomer." Kumiko thought back to her strange, impromptu night with Natsuki, and tugged at the hem of her skirt. "Have you talked to Nakagawa-san about it? She might have some insights."

"Y-yeah. I already have." Kumiko stood up a moment before the train stopped, and found herself wavering. Reina steadied her with a squeeze of her hand.

"You shouldn't worry about it, though. Unless she's some sort of genius prodigy, you shouldn't have much trouble." The two girls stepped off the train, a harsh wind blowing through the station. "You're a lot better at the euphonium than you give yourself credit for." Kumiko hoped that Reina would assume that it was the cold turning her cheeks a bright pink.

* * *

"Oh, crap." Kumiko and Natsuki stood in awe as Momo played the (according to Yuuko) slightly used euphonium as if she'd been doing it her whole life. "She's some sort of genius prodigy."

"I think we have competition," Natsuki muttered.

"Oh, I would _not_ want to be you guys right now," Hazuki said. "No offense, but she's _amazing!_ How long have you been playing the euph, Momo-chan?"

"This is my first time." Kumiko sharply inhaled. "I've studied sheet music all my life, but I never managed to get my hands on a euphonium until now!"

"We're doomed," Natsuki whispered. Kumiko elbowed her. "What? It's true. We'll have to work twice as hard, now, and I'm already busting my ass with this vice president thing."

"You could always tell Yuuko that it's stressing you out."

"Ha! As if!" Momo tore her gaze away from the euphonium to stare up at Natsuki. "I said that really loudly, didn't I?" Gotou solemnly nodded. "Well, Momo, you're a part of this section now, ya deserve to hear about everyone's problems. Including mine."

"I'd love to hear about your problems, Nakagawa-senpai," Momo breathed.

"You really don't," Gotou groaned.

"Well, I'll just say that-"

 _"Hey!"_ Yuuko flung open the door with a _fwack,_ her shoes squeaking as they slid on the tile floor. "Taki-sensei's calling a meeting, everyone in the band room, _now!"_

"Again?" Midori piped up. "We just had one yesterday."

"Yeah, I know, I'm confused too, just _go!"_ Yuuko flung her arms in the air. "We have to hurry!"

"I don't get why we need to rush, but alright, Prez." Natsuki leisurely strolled out of the room with her hands tucked in her skirt. "It'd be nice if they made pockets for these things."

* * *

Once the band had assembled (after a rather long period of Yuuko - and later Natsuki - dragging every section out of their classrooms) Taki clasped his hands together.

"Alright, I'm sure that you're wondering why I've gathered all of you here so soon after our ensemble practice."

"Yeah," one of the first-year clarinets whispered - Kumiko vaguely recalled it being Momo's friend Yui. "What's his deal, anyway?" Hazuki nervously fidgeted in her seat.

"I've decided to do something that's admittedly rather unconventional, so please bear with me."

 _Here it comes,_ Kumiko thought.

"I've decided to hold the auditions for who will play in the Kyoto Competition, and any following competitions this year, assuming we qualify for more of them, two weeks from now."

 _Knew it._

"Two _weeks?_ " a percussionist whined from the back of the room. "We've hardly even had practice!"

"If you don't wish to participate, feel free to sit back and join the, erm, what was it called, Nakagawa-san?"

"Team Monaka!" Natsuki called. Kumiko saw her tense, gripping her scarf tightly.

"Ah, yes, Team Monaka. We want to win gold. That is our goal." Taki pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "That is what we will be aspiring towards. There are limited spots available, so please try your very hardest during the auditions. I wish you all the best of luck, and you're all dismissed." Kumiko looked to Reina, who seemed to register the nervousness in her expression and mouthed _later_ before she stood up and asked Yuuko about something Kumiko couldn't hear.

"Good luck," Natsuki said. "I'm gonna talk to the prez for a minute, you can head back to the classroom without me." Kumiko nodded, sidling her way through the rest of the band until she reached the hallway.

"I think everything just got way more complicated."

* * *

 **a/n:** goddammit hazuki


	5. Try-Hard Tuba

**a/n:** hazuki chapter! i don't know how this ended up being 10k words but oh well.

* * *

"So, we're gonna be auditioning in two weeks. We have to learn the whole piece in two weeks." Hazuki took a long, nervous sip of her slushie. "I'll never be able to do it! Kumiko, I'm so sorry, I won't get to play alongside you this year!" Kumiko gently tried to push the tearful girl out of her vice grip, with little success.

"I'm sure that you'll be fine, Katou- erm, Hazuki." Reina drummed her fingers on the bench's armrest. "If you continue practicing at the same rate you've been practicing, they'll pick you."

"Yeah, Kumiko's the one who should be worried!" Midori piped up. "Moritomo-chan's really good!"

"You should be prepared for that, Kumiko," Reina murmured, putting a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. The touch sent a tingle through Kumiko's spine.

"I'm not worried about myself," Kumiko admitted. "I'm . . . I'm worried about Natsuki. I want to perform in a concert with her, especially after she's been so nice to me." Memories of a dented euphonium in a cold middle school classroom stung Kumiko's skin like needles. "I think I'd give up my position in the competitions for her, if it came to that."

"You care for her a lot," Reina noted. Kumiko wondered if she was just imagining the jealousy in her voice.

"N-not in that way!" Kumiko frantically gestured _no._ "She's just a good person, and it's her last year. She deserves it."

"Kumiko's got a point," Hazuki chimed in. "We're all lucky. We've got another year to win gold, even if this year doesn't work out. The third-years - not just Natsuki, but Gotou-senpai and Riko-senpai, too - are on their last legs." Reina guiltily looked away. Hazuki slammed her fist into her palm decisively. "We're not gonna let them leave with a bitter taste in their mouths like we did with Asuka-senpai and the others. We'll win gold in the Kyoto Competition, and then we'll continue to Kansai and then the Nationals, and we'll win gold there, too!"

"Hazuki, aren't you-"

"We'll do it, I know we will!" Midori stood up, clenching her scarf and staring at the evening sky as if she was daring it to fight her. "We'll win gold, we'll all play on that huge stage together!"

"That's our goal, yeah." Kumiko tossed her slushie into the nearest trash can, where it rolled onto the edge before falling inside. "We'll, uh, we'll all try our best."

"That's the spirit!" Hazuki grabbed Kumiko's arm and spun her around in the parking lot until she was dizzy. "We'll all do this together!"

"We should go," Reina said. "It's beginning to get late, and I'd like to have enough time to finish my homework when I get home." Hazuki deflated, dropping Kumiko's arm and nearly sending her falling to the pavement.

"You're no fun, Kousaka-san," she muttered.

"You want to get into the competition team this year, don't you?" Reina lifted her head, looking to Hazuki with narrowed eyes. "I don't doubt that you can do it, but you should still give yourself time to get home and stay on top of everything."

"I don't really want to give everything to music, you know," Hazuki said, though she started walking in the direction of the train station nonetheless. "There's nothing wrong with that, of course - it's great that you love it so much, Kousaka-san, but I'm just in it to have fun and win gold for everyone." A light breeze ruffled the four girls, and Kumiko instinctively leaned against Reina for warmth. "Still, I get what you mean. I'm gonna work hard and make it onto the A-team."

"I'm glad to hear it." Reina walked a few paces ahead with Kumiko by her side. She didn't look back.

* * *

"Do you really think I'll make it onto the A-team?" Kumiko asked, once Hazuki had stepped off the train and Reina was the only other person left.

"I think that you need to be careful." Reina plucked at a fraying thread on her uniform. "Asuka-senpai's gone, but Nakagawa-senpai is still here, and she'll be trying her very hardest now that she's the vice president."

"Not to mention Momo," Kumiko chuckled. "She's a natural at it."

"You're not half-bad yourself, either." Reina put her hand on top of Kumiko's, looking into her eyes with the expression of a curious cat. "You're doubting yourself, that's obvious. We all are." Kumiko thought back to Saturday night, as she had several times since then, as Reina sat up and folded her legs beneath her. "It's part of being a teenager, I think." Kumiko bit back a response, hundreds of questions running rampant in her head.

 _What happened when we were dancing? Why won't you talk about it? Do you really like me, or am I just imagining it?_

"I guess I'm just kinda scared. I mean, there're hard-working people like Hazuki and Natsuki who . . . who do _everything_ they're supposed to do, and they still don't get what they want." Kumiko laughed ruefully. "I don't know if I deserved my position last year."

"You're better than her. That's all there is to it."

"But what if I'm _not?"_ Reina tilted her head inquisitively. "D-do you remember the first year of middle school?"

"Yeah. It was the first year that the teachers decided the group that would play in the competitions based on skill and not seniority, right? A few of the trumpets were nervous about it - they didn't know if their underclassmen would best them. At least, that's what I heard. I never really cared about them."

"About who?"

"The other trumpets."

"Oh." Kumiko paused for a moment. "Well, one of the other euphs got really mad about the results. 'If you didn't exist, I'd be able to play at the competition.' That's what she said to me. She nearly flipped a table - she knocked over my euphonium." Kumiko swallowed past the lump in her throat. "We never talked again after that. So, last year, when the auditions were happening and tensions ran high between you and Kaori-senpai, I just got . . . nervous, I guess. I was worried that Natsuki or maybe even Hazuki would end up hating me."

"I hardly even knew the names of the other trumpets, so I can't pretend I know what that's like, but I'm sorry." Reina gently, rhythmically patted Kumiko's leg, keeping her gaze averted. "Katou-san and Nakagawa-senpai are a lot nicer, though. They didn't hate you then, and they wouldn't hate you now." She paused. "Anyway, you should stop thinking about them. It's the auditions that matter, now." Kumiko looked at Reina's hunched posture, the bags under her eyes, and decided to ignore it for now. "Nothing else."

* * *

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?" Reina squeezed Kumiko's hand as she stood at the crosswalk. "We'll meet up before school, text me when you get there." Kumiko nodded sheepishly.

"Sorry about kinda breaking down earlier," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to start talking about all of that."

"It's fine. I'm glad you were able to tell me, at least." Reina looked up at the changing stoplight, then back down at Kumiko. "Your scarf's uneven."

"What?"

"Here, I'll fix it." Reina adjusted the fabric, standing back with a triumphant 'hmph' when she was finished. Kumiko's skin prickled.

"T-thanks," she stammered.

"Anyway, I really need to get going, but I'll meet you at the train station first thing tomorrow morning." Reina walked away, her figure lit up by the passing cars, and Kumiko couldn't help but stare after her.

 _Crap, Oumae, you've got it bad._

* * *

"Seriously, these packages are beginning to scare me a bit."

"Hi to you too, Mom," Kumiko muttered, picking up the box as soon as she walked inside. "Don't worry, it's nothing bad. It's just something fun for me to look forward to every few days."

"If you insist." Kumiko tore open the bright red tissue paper to reveal a significantly smaller box than the previous ones had been. Curiously, she unrolled the note lying on top of the small case wrapped in another layer of tissue paper.

 _To the dear sappy fool-_

 _Oh, to be young and in love. What a wondrous feeling it is, what a strange feeling it is._

 _That's weirdly specific,_ Kumiko thought, but she continued reading regardless.

 _It's nothing I could really describe in this letter, which is why I've decided to let musicians who are slightly more talented than I to describe it for you. Inside this package, you'll find a playlist lovingly put together by yours truly. Something to dance and squeal into your pillow to, I'm sure you know what I mean. It's always lovely to know that other people are going through the same things you are. Anyway, I've gone on long enough. Enjoy the sweet tunes._

 _~someone with a great taste in music_

Kumiko picked up the package-within-a-package, which turned out to be a CD with construction paper cherry blossoms on the case.

 _Well, that's nice, at least._ She carefully took the CD from its case and began to play it, and soon her mind was filled with thoughts of Reina as she tried to do her homework.

* * *

The next week passed by in a blur of practices and quiet moments in the early mornings when Kumiko and Reina were the only ones sitting in the classrooms.

"I think we're doing okay," Kumiko exhaled, setting down her euphonium for a moment. "We've been practicing for, what, an hour? Everyone's probably going to start coming in soon." Reina's finger lingered over the sheet music, her brow knitted in focus.

"We might have time for one more, if we do it smoothly enough."

"Okay." Kumiko picked the euphonium back up, and she had just breathed the first note into it when the door slid open and Nozomi and Mizore entered.

"Do you mind if we come in?" Nozomi asked.

"Y-yeah, don't worry about us." Kumiko was about to start the song again when Mizore silently lifted up her oboe and began to count down.

"We could all try it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't see any harm in that," Reina said, and soon the four girls were playing the melody as if they'd been doing it all their lives. The first bell rang as soon as the last notes faded out. "You've improved, Kasaki-senpai."

"Aw, shucks." Nozomi shyly looked down at the floor. "You've hardly even heard me play. Besides, I want to be good enough to play in the competitions this year. It's our . . . it's our last chance to do it together." Mizore held her hand tightly, and Kumiko knew just what she meant. "Besides, I've been playing the flute since I was little. I was just a little bit rusty, that's all."

"I'm glad," Kumiko murmured. "I'm really, really glad."

Reina didn't ask her what she meant by that, and she didn't mind that at all.

* * *

Kumiko didn't quite know what compelled her to mention her caretaker and their mysterious packages to Hazuki and Midori, but she found herself bringing it up nonetheless.

"So, they're just . . . presents? With no return address or anything?" Hazuki pulled out a piece of paper and started to scribble notes while still looking Kumiko dead in the eye.

"Pretty much, yeah. The weird thing is that they seem to know what's going on. It's dumb, I know, but it's still weird." She'd already listened to the playlist dozens of times in the past week until the CD was scratched and the purple marker with its title had been all but rubbed off.

"Maybe it's a secret admirer!" Midori squeaked. "There's been one girl in this class watching you strangely ever since the first day, maybe she's secretly in love with you!"

"I think it might just be because we're loud," Kumiko sighed when the teacher trotted in and glared at the trio.

"I'm gonna get to the bottom of this," Hazuki whispered, but she didn't mention it for the rest of the day.

* * *

"Now, as you know, we're only a week away from the auditions." Yuuko gripped the conductor's stand - Taki had taken a rare sick day to "spend time with his family," though Kumiko knew for a fact that he lived alone. "Taki-sensei had planned to have an ensemble practice today - to see how we're doing, I guess - so I'll be conducting in his absence." Kumiko looked to Reina, who shrugged, and then to Natsuki, who fidgeted with her sheet music nervously. "Pretend I'm Taki-sensei, alright? I'm his understudy in the rare case of something happening - not that it will - so I'm only expecting of you what he would, which is . . . a lot."

"He's not nearly as hot as you," one of the first-years snickered. Yuuko shot him a death glare, her ribbon looking unsettlingly like devil horns. Kumiko couldn't say that she pitied the first-year.

" _Anyway,_ let's go. One, two, three." Yuuko raised her baton cautiously, and soon the room erupted into sound. Natsuki was the first to break the silence when the music stopped.

"That went . . . well," she said. "You're not a bad conductor, Prez."

"I don't ever want to do that again," Yuuko muttered. "Anyway, that should give you an idea of how you're doing and what you'll need to do to get better and stay out of the B-team."

 _"Team Monaka,"_ Natsuki growled.

"Yeah, that." Yuuko breathed out, setting down the baton. "You're all dismissed. Go back to your sections, talk it all out, do whatever you need. I'm taking a break." The band stood up nearly in unison, and Kumiko sought Reina out among the busy crowd.

"Reina, do you have a minute?" she asked. Reina turned to face her, trumpet cradled in her arms.

"Yoshikawa-senpai is recuperating, so I probably do. Should we talk here, or . . . ?"

"The roof." Kumiko held Reina's free hand and made her way through the halls, making a mental note to go back for her euphonium.

"Is there something wrong?" Kumiko shook her head no.

"I just needed to talk to you." The two girls reached the roof, and Kumiko looked up at the gray clouds floating by. Reina sat down, beckoning Kumiko to join her. "I'm . . . I'm just kinda worried."

"We'll all worried. It really shouldn't bother you."

"That's easy for you to say. You're _amazing,_ Reina."

"You flatter me."

"It's true." Kumiko paused. "It's just that everyone, _everyone_ has a reason to want to play in the competitions. Natsuki, Nozomi-senpai and Mizore-senpai, Hazuki, you. It's more than the Nationals for a lot of people, and that's a pretty weird thing to wrap my head around."

"I don't."

"What?"

"I don't have a reason to want to play in the competitions beyond wanting to win gold at Nationals."

"C'mon, Reina, we both know that's not true." Kumiko let out a squeak of surprise when Reina leaned against her. "It's f-for Taki-sensei, right? You want to win gold and grant his wish. That's what you told me."

"Motives change." Reina didn't quite meet Kumiko's eye when she spoke. "I want to win gold, I want to become special, and the Nationals are a means to that end." Her hand travelled up Kumiko's arm until it rested firmly on her shoulder, fingers delicately trailing along her neckline. Kumiko could feel her face heating up. "We promised each other never to abandon the other. I hope that you're not backing out of that now."

"Never." Reina put down her hand and let it rest on the uneven concrete of the roof.

"What am I doing?" she muttered. "What's going to come out of all of this?" Kumiko watched her curl into a ball and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, not quite sure what she was comforting Reina about.

"It's okay." Kumiko stood up and offered Reina her hand. She took it. "We should probably get back to practice. They'll be waiting for us."

* * *

It rained that evening, to nobody's surprise. The sky and all the surrounding buildings had been dyed a dull gray, and Kumiko held her bag above her head in a sad attempt to keep herself dry as she ran across the slippery sidewalk alongside Hazuki, Midori, and Reina.

"This weather's really bumming me out," Hazuki sighed. "Maybe it's a bad omen."

"What would it be a bad omen of?" Midori wondered. She didn't seem to be in much distress over the rain, though she had to sprint to keep up with her friends. "The auditions?"

"What else?" Hazuki had considered bringing Tubacabra home that night, but quickly decided against it when the rain started pouring down in sheets. "I want to play in the competition with all of you, isn't that something good? Isn't it, weather?!"

"She seems tense," Reina whispered. "I've never seen her like this."

"Neither have I, Kousaka-san!" Midori squeaked. "She wants to make sure that her music's heard everywhere, that's noble, right? Especially since she's only been playing for a year. It took me a long time to work up that sort of determination. You two are pretty similar." Reina looked ahead to see Hazuki mimicking Kumiko's attempts at shielding herself with the bag, without much success.

"Oh." Reina stopped in her tracks, curiously watching Hazuki, and soon Kumiko found herself knocking into the other girl and slipping onto the pavement. Reina didn't move.

"Ow." Kumiko's quiet mutterings seemed to snap Reina from her thoughts, and she quickly bent down to the sidewalk.

"Kumiko! Kumiko, are you alright?" Hazuki stopped running ahead and turned around, but Reina was already hunched over her.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Kumiko slowly clambered to her feet, wincing when she put pressure on her own knee.

"I might have some gauze in my bag," Reina mused, helping Kumiko stand.

"We can figure it out inside!" Hazuki butted in. "We'll all get colds if we keep staying out here like this."

"She has a point!" Midori clung stubbornly to Hazuki's side.

"Really, it's just a scratch-"

"Onwards!" Hazuki yelled. The other three followed.

* * *

Kumiko was the first one to reach the convenience store's sliding doors, her knee still scraped and caked in dry blood. Reina trailed closely behind her, followed by Hazuki and Midori.

"Well, don't you four look like something the cat dragged in?" a little old lady - the manager, Kumiko figured - chirped. "The weather out there is awful, feel free to stay in here until it lets up."

"Thank you, ma'am," the four girls said in unison. Midori promptly slid to the floor.

"It's so nice in here!" she sighed. Hazuki pressed herself up against the heater. Kumiko sat down, her back resting on a shelf, as Reina dried herself off with an old towel that had probably been in her bag for longer than Kumiko had known her.

"Does your knee still hurt?" she asked, squeezing her hair for any last lingering droplets.

"Not really." Kumiko stretched out the leg in question, where the blood had mostly dried. "It's just gross."

"I still have the bandages, if you need them."

"Yeah, that'd be . . . nice. Better than letting it get infected, at least." Reina dug out the bandages and started wrapping them around Kumiko's leg. Kumiko pointedly avoided making eye contact as Reina wiped off the blood, knowing that she'd most likely make a fool of herself if she did, and yet she knew that Reina could tell how flustered she was. It was so oddly intimate, Reina's deft fingers bandaging Kumiko's knee, that she felt the urge to tell Hazuki to cover her eyes.

"There." Reina sat back to admire her own handiwork. "You should probably change them when you get home, though. I don't know how secure these are." Kumiko poked at the spongy material curiously.

"It seems pretty secure to me." Reina, still sitting on the floor opposite Kumiko, lifted her head slightly.

"Kumiko, I was wondering if-

"Kumiko! Kousaka-san!" Hazuki held up four Popsicles triumphantly, a wide grin on her face. "The sweet old lady gave us these for free! C'mon, we have to eat them while they're still cold!" Reina got to her feet, extending a hand to Kumiko.

"What were you going to-"

"It's not important." Reina straightened her back, seeming to regain her formal demeanor, and pulled Kumiko back up. "You heard her, we should have them before they melt."

* * *

The rain let up a good twenty minutes later, when the clouds just barely started to dissipate and let the sun's wispy rays shine through.

"We really should get home," Kumiko sighed, breathing in the musty, damp air.

"Homework?" Reina asked.

"Not really. I'm just pretty tired." Midori yawned beside her as if to prove her point. "It's late, anyway, since the rain stopped us for a while."

"You know what I'm looking forward to?" Hazuki said. "Sleeping a bunch in my nice, cozy bed, all snug and toasty under a bunch of blankets without any rain at all. Just me and my nice little bed." Reina raised an eyebrow, looking rather uncomfortable, and Kumiko remembered her huge bed, covered in satin sheets and looking as lonely as a school during summer break.

"I just need to get home before my parents start wondering where I am," she blurted out, trying to change the subject the best she could. "Y'know, it's not that safe at . . . night . . . yeah." Hazuki and Midori solemnly nodded.

"We're here," Midori squeaked, pointing to the train station. "I'll see you three tomorrow, then?" She broke off in the opposite direction, waving cheerfully. Hazuki waved back.

"See you!" she called. "She doesn't have any reason to worry about the auditions." Kumiko started to walk to the train alongside Reina, stopping in her tracks when she realized that Hazuki wasn't moving.

"Hazuki?"

"She's so lucky." Reina turned around, looking to Kumiko for an answer. Kumiko didn't know either. "I'm totally fine with supporting everyone from the sides, that's what tubas are supposed to do, but I want to have fun with everyone, too." Hazuki guiltily looked down at the ground, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. "Does that make me a bad person? If I'm not super-focused like you, Kousaka-san? Or super-determined like you, Kumiko? If I'm just ordinary and still wanna play with everyone?" Reina took a deep breath, and Kumiko squeezed her hand encouragingly.

"I think," she began, seeming to choose her words carefully as she always did before something important, "-that there isn't anything wrong with wanting to play music for the sheer enjoyment of it. Still, that isn't what the Kitauji band has chosen to do as a group, and so it's more of an . . . 'all or nothing' deal. If you want to compete, if you want to take the band to the Nationals alongside everyone else, you have to give it everything you have without expecting anything back." Reina gripped the handle of her trumpet case. "That's what becoming special is."

"What if I don't want to become special?" Hazuki asked. The train wailed into the station, and the three girls stepped on wordlessly. "What if I just want to be a part of the A-team, and that's it? I can't just give up everything else I've ever done." Reina tensed. "I don't think I'm gonna ever be a _great_ tuba player, but I want to be a good one." Hazuki looked at Reina expectantly, as if she was waiting for a life-changing answer.

"I don't know what to tell you, then."

* * *

"Was I too harsh?" Reina asked as soon as Hazuki left at her stop. "Talking to Katou-san, I mean. She didn't say anything for the whole ride, which was especially strange since she's . . . Katou-san." Kumiko shrugged.

"Things like that just kinda bounce off of her. She's more thick-skinned than you'd think. Even after she got her heart broken by Shu- Tsukamoto, she just kept on smiling. I don't really know how much really gets to her, but as long as you show that you, uh, care, I think it'll be okay." Kumiko hugged her knees to her chest, and Reina leaned against her without a word spoken between them.

"Everyone's been thinking about the auditions as of late, it's more or less dominated the band. I trust Taki-sensei to have some kind of reasoning behind this, but it hasn't done much good for the band so far." Reina reached for Kumiko's hand and put her own on top of it. "I don't know how it is in your section, but the other trumpets have been talking about it non-stop, especially the president. She seems stressed."

"Both of them do, to be honest."

"Both?"

"Natsuki. The vice president. She's stressed, too, she's just really good at hiding it."

"And yet you still know she's stressed." Reina let out a soft hum. "I don't know why you always deny how empathetic you are. It's a gift, knowing everyone's true feelings." She paused. "It's something that can get you into lots of things that aren't really your business, and then that good-girl skin will keep you trapped with it."

"There you go again with that," Kumiko chuckled. "I didn't understand it at all when you said it the first time."

"Do you understand it now?"

"More than I did back then, at least."

"I still haven't peeled it off, then." Kumiko watched the familiar landscape roll by. "You're always so focused on everyone's problems but your own. It's strange."

"I'm just doing what I feel like I should, Reina. I'm just going through the motions of stuff, trying to improve, all that. I don't really think about whose problems I'm solving or what I should be focusing on." Reina leaned in closer, until she was only a few inches away from Kumiko's face, her violet eyes seeming to take up the whole train car.

"That's what's so extraordinary about you."

Reina didn't speak for the rest of the ride.

* * *

"Hey, Mom."

"Hello. There weren't any of those packages today, weirdly enough. What happened to your leg?" Kumiko looked down to see red seeping through the cloth wrapped around her knee.

"Oh, it's nothing, I just scratched it a little."

"It doesn't just look like _a little."_

"It's fine, Mom." Kumiko hurried into her room, taking a fresh roll of bandages from her desk. She thought again of how deft Reina's fingers had been, delicately securing them, and didn't make any effort to try and stop herself from smiling at the memory. The cloth on the bandages had started to unravel, soggy and dyed red from Kumiko's blood.

 _It's like the red string of fate,_ she thought, untying the bandages and dropping them on the carpet. _It's just something pretty and dumb._

* * *

 _She dreamed that night, of her round cactus sitting upon a great throne. She didn't it when the cactus leaned down to face her, a comical golden crown perched upon its head._

 _ **What is it that you desire?** the cactus asked, in a voice that seemed to echo around the grand chamber._

 _"I want to be happy," she said, but she didn't think before speaking - it was as if someone else was using her as a mouthpiece, talking through her._

 _ **Is that all?!** the cactus boomed. Kumiko flinched._

 _"I think so?"_

 _ **What about her?** The cactus conjured an image of Reina, floating in the air above the staircase that separated Kumiko from the throne. **What does she want?**_

 _"I don't know."_

 _ **Or her?** The image of Reina shifted and twirled until it turned into Hazuki._

 _"I don't-"_

 _ **Her? Her?** Natsuki. Midori. The cactus was getting closer, and Kumiko started to back away. **Do you know what they want?**_

 _"I really don't know-"_

 _ **Oh, foolish one.** The cactus was standing right in front of her, now, and right before her eyes it turned into a freakishly large Eupho-kun, blank eyes looking directly into her heart. Kumiko opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the Eupho-kun became Asuka, her glasses glinting in the light of the chamber, her eyes hidden. "Do any of us know what we really want?"_

"I'm sorry!" Kumiko yelled, reaching out for empty air. _A dream?_

She forgot about the dream after breakfast.

* * *

"The weather's cleared up, at least," Reina noted. "I've heard that it's good luck to have nice weather on audition days."

"The auditions are still a week away, Reina. Besides, where'd you hear that?" Kumiko grinned, knowing from Reina's tone that it had most likely been an unreliable source.

"It was . . . it was . . . Kawashima-san."

"Of course." Kumiko let out a chuckle. "Really, Reina, you don't need to worry about anything." The train rattled along the track, as it always did, and Kumiko rested against the seat so that her back was pressed into the plastic-like cushion. "I mean, you had the solo last year. Taki-sensei knows that you're amazing."

"They might accuse him of favoritism again. It would be the best for his reputation if he picked someone else for the most important parts, doubly so if I was left out altogether. How do you know that Yoshikawa-san won't start spreading rumors again?"

"I think she's got bigger things to worry about." Kumiko thought of Yuuko and Natsuki's unending stress, the unsolved issue of the extra euphonium, the unspoken tenderness that lay behind their hostility. "Natsuki, too."

"Perhaps. Still, it's important to keep it all in mind. We can't afford another problem like last year."

"You're really determined about this."

"Of course I am." Reina clenched her fist so that the whites of her knuckles showed, fingernails digging into her palm. "I have to become special, you should know that. Right?"

"We still have another year after this."

"We shouldn't hinge our hopes on a last chance. If we win gold this year, we'll be able to win it next year, too. That's how I view it, at least. I know that other people think of it all differently."

"I don't think I know anyone who's quite as determined as you, Reina. Asuka-senpai was, but she's not here anymore. You're the bravest one left." The train stopped, and Reina stood up. "We'll both make it through the auditions, Reina. I know we will."

"I hope we will, Kumiko." The way Reina said her name never failed to feel intimate, personal, like she was parroting Kumiko's deepest feelings back at her. "I really, truly hope that we will."

* * *

"Listen up, assholes." Natsuki hefted her euphonium in the air, standing in front of the brass section with her back oddly straight. "We're less than a week from the auditions. We all need to get our butts into gear if we wanna play in the competition, alright?" Momo looked as if she'd just discovered the eighth wonder of the world.

"Yes, ma'am!" Hazuki and Midori chirped, mock-saluting Natsuki.

"We'll try our best," Gotou and Riko added. Natsuki looked to Kumiko, curiosity in her expression.

"Kumiko? Is something wrong?"

"Oh, y-yeah! I'll give it my all, Natsuki!" Natsuki smiled softly.

"Good."

"Nice work, team." Natsuki sat back, wiping the sweat from her brow.

"Hey, Natsuki-senpai?" Hazuki piped up.

"Yeah?"

"Do you really think we'll make it? To the competition team, I mean."

 _"I just wanna play with everyone."_ Hazuki's pained, smiling face lit by the train flashed in Kumiko's memory.

"I really do, Ka-"

"Hey!" Yuuko flung the door open, her ribbon bouncing on her head with the motion. "Could I have a minute with the vice president, please?"

"There's a thing called knocking," Natsuki muttered, getting up from her seat nonetheless. Kumiko found her blood going cold, though she didn't quite know why. "Kumiko, you're in charge until I come back." Kumiko blinked.

"Okay," she mumbled as Natsuki followed Yuuko out into the hall. "Actually, I think I have to, uh, go to the bathroom. Hazuki, you're in charge."

"Aye aye, captain!" Kumiko shoved open the door, sneaking out into the hallway with her back against the wall.

"Natsuki, I-" She didn't know quite what she would've said, but Yuuko interrupted her nonetheless.

"Natsuki, I already told you that I'm sorry about that." Natsuki hugged herself, shoulders hunched.

"Yeah, and _I_ already told you that we still haven't figured out how the hell we're gonna find the money to pay for that thing." Natsuki's fingers dug deeper into her own skin, filed-down fingernails still managing to make a dent, and Kumiko could see just how _tired_ she looked.

"You think that this isn't taking a toll on me, too?" Yuuko's voice had none of the brattiness that Kumiko usually associated with her, none of the cold snark. It was genuine, as genuine as it had been the day that Kumiko still hadn't forgotten - Mizore, sobbing out her apologies to Nozomi in the near-empty classroom still sprang to her mind on occasion.

 _How well did they know each other?_ Kumiko wondered, not for the first time. _How much did she give up?_

"Geez, you're so _selfish_ sometimes." Kumiko was whisked back to the present with Yuuko's words returning to their usual sharpness.

" _I'm_ selfish? You bought a euphonium with _my_ phone, you won't ever admit when you're wrong, you-"

"I make mistakes, okay?! Probably not as many as you, but-"

"Oh, do ya wanna bet?" Yuuko stuck her head out so that she was incredibly close to Natsuki's, and Natsuki returned in kind. "We've been over this before, two assholes running the band isn't a great idea, all that, but guess what? We're stuck with this now, and we have to figure out what to do about that euph."

"Are you sure that we can't cut back on the budget for . . . something?"

"Not everything can be solved with money, Prez." Natsuki reached out a hand to Yuuko, who swatted it away. "Listen, I want to make this work just as much as you." Kumiko figured that she must've been imagining the unsteadiness in Natsuki's tone. "But this . . . this _thing,_ it can't be ignored, as much as I wish it could be." Yuuko took a deep breath, looking as if she was about to say something important, but froze in place as if someone had hit the _pause_ button on her.

"Get back to practice," she muttered, turning her back to Natsuki.

"Yeah, I will!" Natsuki snapped back, hurrying back into the room with a huff. Kumiko remained plastered against the wall. "Hey, where'd Kumiko go?" she heard her asking from behind the door.

"Bathroom," Momo answered. "She went to the bathroom, Nakagawa-senpai."

"Who was in charge, then?"

"You were gone for three minutes," Riko said. "But it was Hazuki-chan, if you were wondering."

* * *

"Hey, Reina?" The sky, Kumiko thought, was particularly beautiful tonight, but she kept that thought quiet - she knew it'd bring back memories of that Saturday night, and she knew that Reina didn't want to talk about that, and she knew that it'd be best for the both of them if it continued like that.

"What is it?"

"What do you . . . think of Hazuki?" Reina shrugged.

"She's nice, she's dedicated, if a bit excitable on occasion. I think she needs to focus a bit more, if we're being honest." The train turned, and Reina leaned against Kumiko's shoulder with such a nonchalance that Kumiko was reminded of how old married couples always cuddled on these trains.

"I'm worried for her."

"Hmm?"

"She w-wants to play with everyone in the competition, it'd be horrible if she didn't get in for two years in a row. She's . . . she's sad, Reina."

"She doesn't act like it." Reina looked up at the train's ceiling, where the first flyers advertising the Agata Festival had started to pop up. "How do you know?" Kumiko gulped.

"Listen, if I tell you this, you'll have to promise not to tell anyone else, okay?"

"Who else would I be telling?" Kumiko blinked.

"Good point." She cleared her throat, adjusting her position in the seat. "Do you remember how Shuichi - Tsukamoto, I mean - asked me to that festival last year?" Kumiko pointed to the flyer for emphasis.

"And you grabbed my arm, saying that you were going with me?" Reina smiled at the memory. "I remember that, yes."

"I wasn't just trying to get away from Shuichi. I mean, that was obviously a big part of it - we're friends, yeah, but he's never really understood the 'only interested in girls' thing - but it was also because Hazuki really liked him and I wasn't about to get in the way of that."

"You were sparing her feelings?"

"I would've said no anyway," Kumiko deadpanned. "So, Hazuki and Shuichi ended up going together, and then - from what I heard from Midori later on - he rejected her and she ended up crying on the bridge."

"Oh." Reina remained silent for a moment. "I didn't know."

"I didn't really know much about what happened, either, really - Hazuki kept on trying to set me up with Shuichi after that, it was a pain. Still, I know what it's like to have unrequited feelings for someone." Reina's expression didn't betray any sign of realization. "It sucks, Reina."

"Do you think I'm unfamiliar with those feelings?" Reina chuckled. "I've been in love with a man more than twice my age since I was six years old." Kumiko stiffened. "I know how awful unrequited crushes are, but they're just that. Crushes." Reina turned to look out the train window, her transparent reflection staring back at her. "I never deluded myself into thinking that Taki-sensei would return my feelings, if they were feelings at all."

"Wait, what do you mean about-" Kumiko was cut off by Reina sneezing rather loudly. "Reina, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Reina sniffled. "I think that it was just allergies."

"If you say so." Kumiko opened her mouth to ask about Taki again, but quickly decided against it.

"She'll be fine, Kumiko."

"Eh?"

"Katou-san. She's been practicing hard, she'll make it into the competition team."

"I hope so, Reina."

* * *

The next few days passed in a whirlwind of practice upon practice until Kumiko's fingers were as calloused as those of a rock-climber and her lips had turned blue.

"As you all know, the auditions are tomorrow," Taki said at practice the day before the auditions, as crisp and clean as ever. "For those of you returning to the band, the process will be the same as it was last year. For those of you who are new to this club, the process is simple. Students will be tested individually, the results of the auditions will be announced the following day. Please be prepared." Taki clasped his hands together, looking over the band like a king surveying his subjects.

"I still don't get why he's making us audition so early," Natsuki whispered.

"Reina says that he has some sort of plan," Kumiko whispered back.

"Please head to your sectionals," Taki continued as he stepped down from the conductor's stand.

"Tomorrow," Hazuki breathed. "It's tomorrow."

* * *

Kumiko tried to sleep as soon as she came home, sliding into her bed and wriggling underneath the covers. Her phone beeped before she could fall into dreamland, however, and she reluctantly reached for it.

 **Hazuki: can you believe it?**

 **Hazuki: the auditions are tomorrow!**

 **Kumiko: yeah, i'm aware**

 **Hazuki: ive been carrying around all the good-luck charms i have!**

 **Hazuki: i wanna play in the competition right alongside you and midori-chan and natsuki-senpai and everyone!**

 **Hazuki: do you think ill get in?**

Kumiko set down the phone for a moment, rubbing her eyes blearily. A thunderstorm boomed outside, ruffling the trees below the apartment building.

 **Kumiko: yeah**

 **Kumiko: i know it**

* * *

She'd have liked to have fallen asleep after that, waking up the next morning feeling fully refreshed and ready for the auditions, but the universe (and the weather) seemed to have other plans. Kumiko had never understood why people said that it was easy to fall asleep when it was storming - she liked the rain, sure, but the relentless _pit-pit-pit_ on her windows, combined with the booms of thunder at random intervals, did nothing but cause restlessness. The doorbell rang, and Kumiko could hear her mother shuffling over to the door with an exasperated sigh.

"Who would come here in the middle of the- oh, you're one of Kumiko's friends, aren't you?"

"Yes."

 _Reina?_

"She's in her room. Honestly, I don't know why you kids keep showing up so late at night, it really isn't safe."

"Thank you, ma'am," Reina said, walking into Kumiko's room, dripping from the rain. Kumiko flicked on the lights.

"Reina? What're you doing here? It's dangerous outside!" As if to prove her point, a tree branch slammed against the window.

"I wanted to talk about the audition," Reina said calmly.

"In the middle of a thunderstorm?!" Kumiko flung her arms in the air. "You can't play in a competition if you've been struck by lightning."

"I'd think not," Reina chuckled.

"You're soaked, too." Kumiko was standing, now, pacing around the room nervously while Reina watched her. "Here, I'll get you some warm clothes- this might be a bit big for you, is that okay?" She held up a flannel hanging in her closet. Reina took it from her as soon as she held it out, beginning to peel off the soggy shirt that clung to her skin. "Wait!"

"What is it?" Kumiko had seen characters' hair fluffing up when they were flustered, and she figured that she was probably doing that right now.

"Uh, my mom might get the . . . wrong idea . . . if she saw you undressing in my room."

"Oh." Reina wordlessly started heading out of the room, leaving rainwater to drip behind her. "Where's the bathroom?"

"It's the door with the dark handle!"

"Alright, I found it!" Kumiko sat back down on her bed.

"Why does this keep happening?" she muttered, her face in her hands.

"What's wrong?" Kumiko looked up to see Reina, already changed into the flannel and standing in the doorway.

 _Crap. I'm really gay._ "H-how did you do that so fast?" Reina shrugged.

"I came here to talk about the auditions," she said, plopping down on the carpet. "I would've climbed through your window - I didn't want to be a bother to your mother - but you live in an apartment building, so I . . . couldn't really do that."

"Yeah." Kumiko had no idea what she was supposed to say.

"Listen, Kumiko, you have to make it onto the competition team." Reina looked up at her, looking as powerful as ever even while sopping wet and clad in an oversized flannel.

"Eh?"

"We're going to make it to Nationals, together." Reina reached out a hand, cold and pale from the rain, and Kumiko took it. "Promise me that we will. Promise me that we'll win gold there, Kumiko." Kumiko nodded.

"I promise, Reina."

* * *

Kumiko woke up early the next morning, all traces of Reina gone.

"Hey, Mom?" she called as she straightened out her uniform with one hand, pulling on her tights with her other.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, did you take my friend home last night? She . . . left."

"Oh, yes, her. I drove her back to her house, she's a lovely girl." Kumiko didn't know whether to be relieved or mortified.

"Okay, got it, see you later!" Kumiko grabbed a piece of toast from the kitchen before waving goodbye, hopping out the door.

* * *

"Your mom is nice," Reina said on the train that morning.

"Y-yeah." Kumiko paused for a moment. "We'll both make it onto that team, Reina."

"Of course we will. You promised, after all."

* * *

"Gosh, I'm so nervous!" Hazuki fretted, slumped over her desk. "What if I mess up and don't get in?"

"You'll be fine, Hazuki-chan!" Midori patted her on the back, smiling warmly. "Don't worry about it!" Kumiko didn't say anything, watching the clock's hands slowly drag themselves by.

 _I have a feeling that it's going to be a very long day._

* * *

The school day crawled by, class after class and homework assignment after homework assignment, until the final bell rang and Kumiko ran for the brass section's classroom, shoes squeaking on the recently polished floor.

"Natsuki, Hazuki, I'm here!" she exclaimed, pushing open the door. Momo was the only person in the room. "Where's everyone else?" Momo looked up from polishing her euphonium.

"I don't know," she said. The two sat in awkward silence for a moment before Momo broke the quiet. "Oumae-senpai, what do you think of Nakagawa-senpai?"

"Natsuki? She's great. She's nice and funny and has this . . . this casual way about her, like nothing ever gets under her skin. It's impressive." Kumiko tactfully decided not to mention what she had witnessed in the hallway the day before, nor any of the vulnerability she'd seen before that.

"Yeah, I think so too." Momo closed her eyes, a wide smile spreading across her features. "She's amazing." Kumiko could've seen how lovestruck the younger girl was from a mile away.

"Listen, Momo, she's going through a lot right now." Kumiko had no idea why she felt like she needed to protect the girl in front of her - she wasn't even that much younger than her - but she found herself patting Momo on the shoulder nonetheless. "Please, don't do anything like . . . I dunno, giving her flowers, or whatever it is that people who have their lives together do." Kumiko thought of that Saturday night once more. "Someone told me once that, uh, high school kinda sucks, that you're not in it unless you're dead inside." Momo laughed. "I guess I've taken that advice to heart."

"Okay, I won't do anything." Momo looked down at her lap, where she nervously tugged at the hem of her skirt. "Nakagawa-senpai's really cool, though, isn't she?" Kumiko nodded.

"Yeah." Riko and Gotou silently shuffled into the room, tubas hefted in their arms. "She is."

* * *

"Okay, I can do this. I can do this." Hazuki balled her hands into fists, rocking back and forth in her chair. It was a wonder that her tuba didn't tip her over. "I'm gonna play in the competition with all of you! I'll make sure we win gold at Nationals! I'm doing this!"

"Katou, Hazuki," Yuuko called from outside. Kumiko could see the back of her head leaning against the door, her ribbon still visible through the blurred glass. "Hurry it up, will you?"

"I can't do this," Hazuki fretted. "I'll mess something up, and then I'll be the laughingstock of the whole band!"

"Taki-sensei's the only one in there, he doesn't seem like the type to laugh at ya," Natsuki sighed from the corner. "I don't think he's ever laughed. Like, ever. He's probably gone his whole life without laughing." She looked up at the dangling lights on the ceiling. "Kinda sad, really."

"Okay, okay, I'm going!" Hazuki snapped her barrette back and forth, carrying her tuba out the door. Yuuko stepped aside with a huff. "Oh, hey." Kumiko peeked out the door to see Nozomi heading back down the hall with her flute cradled in her arms. "You're Kasaki-senpai, right?"

"Yep, that's me! I'm the flute girl who caused a bit of trouble last year, but that's all behind us now." Nozomi looked down at the ground, eyes watering. "Good luck on your audition. I hope you'll be able to be a part of the competition team with Mizore and I."

"Thanks, Kasaki-senpai!" Hazuki started skipping down the hall. "Good luck to you too!"

* * *

"I thought I was gonna die!" Hazuki moaned a few minutes later, lying down on the floor as soon as she came back to the classroom. "Taki-sensei was so big as imposing - I never really thought of him as a scary guy, mostly just handsome, but he was! Scary, I mean."

"I never thought of him as handsome in the first place, if it helps," Natsuki said.

"Me neither," Kumiko added, extending an arm for a fist-bump, which Natsuki greeted enthusiastically.

"Do you guys have like . . . a club? A gay club?" Hazuki propped up her chin with her hands, still lying down on the floor. Natsuki ran a hand through her hair as she smirked.

"Ha, I wish! The school district would probably go nuts if they heard about that. This band is basically the closest we have to a 'gay club,' anyway." Hazuki was quiet for a moment.

"You should start one!" she chirped. Natsuki looked down at her. Kumiko could see the bags hanging under her eyes.

"Do you think . . . that I'm emotionally capable . . . of handling anything else right now?" Hazuki quickly shook her head.

"No, ma'am."

"And you're supposed to be the encouraging one." Natsuki set aside her euph to slide down onto the floor to join Hazuki. "We're just a bunch of sad, gay goofballs in the brass section here, aren't we?"

"When does Taki-sensei usually announce the results?" Hazuki asked. Momo dropped down to join the two, eyes darting in Natsuki's direction every few seconds. "I forgot."

"The day after the auditions, usually," Gotou spoke up from the corner.

"Hey, Gotou!" Natsuki called. "You and Riko should join us here, it's fun. Lying on the floor, I mean." Gotou and Riko shared a look, but found themselves lying down nonetheless.

"I'll join too!" Midori squeaked, flinging herself at the floor at a speed that most likely wasn't safe. Kumiko smiled.

"You're all nerds," she murmured, half to herself, as she rested on the floor beside Natsuki and Hazuki. The world seemed to spin just a bit faster, and yet gentler, as if it were rocking her to sleep.

* * *

"Kumiko?" Reina pushed open the door a few minutes later, looking down at the seven teenagers lying down on the floor with a barely-contained smirk. "I just finished my audition."

"That's great, Reina!" Kumiko didn't move from her spot, and instead craned her neck to look up at Reina.

"I think I'm going to head home now, though." Kumiko could see that Reina's cheeks were devoid of any color, her eyes ringed with red. "It feels like I'm getting a cold. I told Taki-sensei already, good luck on your audition." Reina walked away without another word.

"I didn't know that Kousaka-san _could_ get sick," Hazuki quipped. "She's always seemed, like, superhuman or something."

"She's just a kid like the rest of us, prone to getting sick and all that." Natsuki watched the lights flicker overhead. "It doesn't do anyone any good to see other people as gods or whatever. Momo, you've heard of the vice president before me, right?" Momo nodded.

"Asuka, right? Everyone says she was amazing."

"She was also kind of a jackass." Natsuki laughed to herself. "Oh, she was amazing, but she didn't ever act like she cared about . . . about _anyone,_ really. She had to drop out of the band for a few weeks because of some stuff with her mom, and that would've been bad enough - it was right before Nationals - but I think it screwed with everyone's worldview a bit, especially the old president's."

"What do you mean?" Momo asked.

"Everyone loves having a hero to look up to. Everyone loves knowing that there's some perfect person out there. Asuka-senpai _was_ that person, to a lot of people." Kumiko felt an odd stirring in her chest while Natsuki talked.

 _Do I miss her?_

"But, nobody can ever really live up to that sorta label slapped onto them. They're bound to fall off that pedestal eventually." Natsuki toyed with the cloth she'd used to clean her euphonium. "I wonder what she's doing now. Probably just living her life at college or whatever. I can't imagine her doing anything too extraordinary right now."

"I wish I could've met her," Momo said. Kumiko felt her chest squeeze.

"Yeah," she murmured. "She was pretty cool."

"Moritomo, Momoko," Yuuko called from outside the door. "It's your turn." Momo stood up, and Kumiko's thoughts were still filled with Asuka when she came back minutes later.

* * *

"Oumae, Kumiko." Yuuko had returned to the door once again, after most of the brass section's auditions had passed, and Kumiko stood up on shaky legs.

"You'll do great!" Hazuki whisper-shouted. Midori flashed her a thumbs-up, while Natsuki just winked. Kumiko walked out the door, trying to hold her head up. The hallway felt like it might as well be a thousand miles long.

"Hurry it up, Oumae," Yuuko muttered. "I have to wait outside more doors until it's my turn. I guess I can blame my parents for the waiting part, sticking me with a name like _Yuuko Yoshikawa._ I mean, Taki-sensei knows what he's doing, even with this dumbass alphabetical order, but it's still annoying." Kumiko didn't know how to respond. "Here we are. Good luck, kiddo." Yuuko turned away with a huff, her ribbon bobbing up and down as she did so.

"Okay," Kumiko whispered to herself. "I can do this. I promised Reina I'd make it into the competition team, I'm not about to let her down now." Taki greeted her at a desk, calmly holding out the sheet music.

"Welcome, Oumae-san," he said, calm in his tone. "Please play this measure here." He pointed to a section of the sheet music, and Kumiko took a deep breath as she started to play. She had just started to feel the pleasant drifting she'd grown to associate these sessions with when Taki clapped once. "That will be enough, thank you." Kumiko's head shot up.

"Erm, okay, t-thank you, Taki-sensei." She scurried out of the room, her breathing uneven, the euphonium's cold metal keeping her tethered to reality. She set it down once she reached the brass section's classroom.

"That bad, huh?" Natsuki sighed. Kumiko laid herself down again.

"I promised Reina that I'd make it onto the competition team," she muttered. Natsuki clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Didn't anyone ever tell ya not to make promises you can't keep?" Kumiko guiltily curled in on herself. "Hey, I'm just kidding. I'm sure that you did fine."

"If it helps, Gotou's the only one left out of the brass section who needs to audition!" Riko chirped. "We can all head out for ice cream after that!" Kumiko tried her best to quiet the coldness she'd started to feel spreading through her body.

"Y-yeah." The lights still flickered overhead. "I'd like that."

* * *

Kumiko walked home alongside Hazuki that night, having since bid farewell to the rest of the brass section.

"You've been quiet, Hazuki," Kumiko noted.

"I'm _scared!_ " Hazuki whined. "What if I don't get in this year, and then a new tuba player comes in and replaces me next year? I can't compete with Ruby Kawashima!"

"Who?"

"Nothing." Hazuki looked up at the stars beginning to emerge, her hair slightly ruffled by the wind. "They're pretty, aren't they? The stars. They're so far away, but we can still see 'em. That's pretty cool, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Kumiko murmured, looking away from the ground for the first time that afternoon. "Thank you, Hazuki."

"For what?" Kumiko shrugged.

"Being here."

* * *

 **Reina: I won't be at school today.**

Kumiko woke up to see her phone blinking, the tune she'd set as her ringtone for Reina's messages blaring in her ear.

 **Reina: I'm more or less bedridden.**

 **Reina: I wanted to tell you, in case you'd worry.**

 **Kumiko: i can bring you soup or something**

 **Reina: Don't worry about it.**

 **Reina: I just wanted to say good luck.**

 **Reina: I'm sure that you'll do fine.**

Kumiko felt her cheeks heating up.

 **Reina: I'll be right there beside you, playing in those halls so that everyone can hear our sound.**

 **Reina: I'd like to promise you that, at least.**

Kumiko held the phone close to her chest, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her face.

 **Kumiko: thank you**

* * *

The train car felt incredibly lonely without Reina in it - drafty, cold, and utterly saddening.

 _She's not dead,_ Kumiko chastised herself. _She'll probably be back tomorrow._ Still, the ride felt hours longer than usual, and Kumiko felt like the last living passenger of a years-long voyage across the sea by the time the train reached her stop.

* * *

 _You'll be okay,_ Kumiko thought to herself as she opened the door to the classroom, greeted by Hazuki and Midori's equally tired faces.

 _You'll be okay,_ Kumiko thought to herself as she walked in the direction of the band room that afternoon, hands shaking.

 _You'll be okay,_ Kumiko thought to herself as Taki entered the room with his usual cold and calm demeanor, straightening out the list of students that rested in his hands. Reina's seat remained empty. Matsumoto walked in a moment later with an identical list in her hands.

"You're trembling," Natsuki whispered. Kumiko flinched. She hadn't even realized that Natsuki was there. "Is everything alright?" Kumiko nodded quickly.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, everything's fine and okay and good."

"Ya don't sound like you've convinced yourself of that." Natsuki jammed her hands in her skirt as if it had pockets. "Listen, they've already got the list, so don't worry too much about it." She inhaled, and Kumiko could easily imagine her taking a drag of a cigarette in some grainy 80s movie.

"Now, for who will play in the competition," Taki said. "Matsumoto-san, if you'll do the honors?"

"I think I'm gonna faint," Hazuki mumbled, a bit too loudly.

"If you're feeling ill, please go to the nurse's office and lie down." Taki's voice had no trace of humor in his voice, but a few students laughed nonetheless. Hazuki slunk away, mortified. Kumiko made a mental note to apologize to her later.

"Please confirm your presence when I call your name," Matsumoto continued. "Contrabass, one. Kawashima, Sapph-"

"Midori!" Midori squeaked indignantly. "I mean, erm, here."

"Trombone, three . . ."

"Percussion, four . . ." Kumiko could feel her heart beating faster and faster with every instrument and name called.

"Tuba, two." Kumiko's chest squeezed, and she looked to Hazuki with a pitiful expression already begin in to make its way onto her face. "Nagase, Riko."

"Here," Riko said.

 _Here it comes._

"Katou, Hazuki." Hazuki's eyes widened.

"H-here," she breathed, tears starting to form in her eyes. Gotou sighed before settling back into his seat.

"Trumpet, four . . ."

Reina got in, unsurprisingly.

"Flute, one." Nozomi's name wasn't called, and Kumiko saw Nozomi curl in on herself out of the corner of her eye.

"Oboe, one." Mizore replied with a half-hearted _here._

"Euphonium . . ." The world seemed to slow as the word was uttered. Kumiko found herself clinging to Natsuki's arm for dear life, thinking back to Reina and every ensemble practice she'd been in and that feeling of performing in competitions and _Reina._ "Three." Kumiko released a breath she'd most definitely known she was holding. The next few seconds seemed to pass by like a pleasant daydream.

"Moritomo, Momoko."

"Here!" Momo said.

"Nakagawa, Natsuki."

"Here," Natsuki sighed, the airiness in her voice utterly unmatched with the joy in her expression.

"Oumae, Kumiko."

 _We're all going to play in the competition together, all of us._

"Oumae, Kumiko. Please answer."

"Oh, y-yeah, here!" Kumiko couldn't even find it in herself to be embarrassed, instead tackling Natsuki in a hug.

"Hey, I have vice president stuff to take care of, go be with your other friends." Natsuki patted Kumiko on the shoulder before walking off. She looked to be positively glowing.

"We did it!" Hazuki cheered. It was Kumiko's turn to be tackled in a hug, soon joined by Midori and Momo. "We're all gonna be on that big stage, together! Oh, uh, except for Gotou-senpai. Sorry."

"It's not a problem," Gotou gruffly said. "Don't worry about me."

"Oh, and Oumae-san?" Taki set down his paper.

"Eh?" Hazuki and Midori slowly peeled themselves off of her.

"Kousaka-san is absent today, and I'll be sending her an email, but could you perhaps contact her in addition to that? I've never quite understood technology, and I may end up sending the email into cyberspace." Kumiko dutifully nodded.

"Y-yes," she said. "I'll make sure she knows."

"Good." Taki walked away without another word.

"I'm gonna be on the A-team, I'm gonna be on the A-team," Hazuki sang to herself. "Gotou-senpai, you'll have to fill my shoes in Team Monaka! They're just as important as the competition team, so don't forget that!"

"I won't."

"Let's all go out to celebrate!" Hazuki was already halfway out the door by the time Riko had opened her mouth to speak.

"She's really excited about this," Momo noted. Kumiko watched Hazuki skip down the halls with a smile on her face.

"Yeah," she murmured. "She is."

"So, what do we do now?" Midori asked. Nozomi and Mizore held each other tight in a corner of the classroom, sniffles heard between them, but Kumiko didn't quite know who was consoling who.

"I guess we get ready for the competition."

* * *

 **a/n:** the caretaker's playlist: :h tt p s / / 8tracks. c o m. mistyheartrbs / for-the-fool-in-love


	6. Young Flute There's No Need To Feel Down

**a/n:** i feel like this chapter wasn't very good? i didn't have a whole lot of inspiration for it, so sorry in advance i guess

the entire reason i even gave nozomi an arc in this fic was for this stupid pun

* * *

 **Kumiko: reina**

 **Kumiko: reina, you made it onto the competition team**

 **Kumiko: i guess that's no surprise though**

 **Kumiko: still**

 **Kumiko: it's pretty amazing, right?**

Kumiko couldn't stop herself from smiling as she typed out the message, hugging the plush cat that she'd received almost a month ago.

 **Reina: I'm glad.**

 **Reina: The doctor said that I'm well enough to go to school tomorrow, by the way.**

 **Reina: I'll see you then.**

Kumiko danced around the room, her grin reaching from ear to ear.

 **Kumiko: tomorrow.**

 **Kumiko: yeah.**

* * *

Reina wasn't at the train station. Kumiko looked down to see her phone beeping, almost as if Reina had known just when she'd start to wonder.

 **Reina: I'm going to be a bit late.**

 **Reina: Meet me in the music room?**

Kumiko started nodding before she realized that Reina couldn't see her.

 **Kumiko: yep!**

 **Kumiko: see you then**

* * *

Kumiko ran for the classroom like she'd never ran before, like the whole world was on fire and she was the last survivor, like she was reaching out a hand to some greater good.

 _I'm just running to a classroom to see my . . . friend,_ she thought, banishing the more dramatic ideas to the back of her head. She had no reason to run - she was early, most of the doors were still closed - but she ran nonetheless until Reina turned when she opened the door, and Kumiko crashed into her arms with a wide smile on her lips.

"We made it," Reina said, and if a voice could sound like pure sunshine, that was what hers was doing.

"Y-yeah." Any words that Kumiko had considered saying had disappeared in the moment.

"We're going to play together in the competition." Pleasant chills ran down Kumiko's spine every time Reina said the word _we,_ reminding her that they were a unit, together, reminding her that she could say it again without fear of Reina's eyes going cold. "We're going to make it to Nationals," Reina breathed, wonderment in her voice.

"We will, Reina, we will."

"We're going to win gold." Kumiko leaned in, searching Reina's expression for any signs of discomfort, but there was nothing - simply a wide-eyed breathlessness she hadn't seen since Kansai last year. Reina looked as if she was just about to close the distance, and Kumiko held her hands just as Momo burst in through the door.

"Oumae-senpai!" she yelled. Kumiko jumped back. "If it's not too much to ask, could you give me some private lessons? Or maybe just euphonium tips, I really don't mind either one." Reina stepped out of the light that the hallway had cast onto the both of them.

"Go," she murmured. "I'll see you during practice." Kumiko wanted to ask her what she'd have done if Momo hadn't barged in, but she was already backing away with unsteady breaths, and so Kumiko left the issue alone.

* * *

Hazuki still hadn't gotten over her initial excitement.

"Can you believe it, Kumiko?" she squealed as soon as Kumiko entered the classroom. She hardly even heard her, her mind still filled with Reina and how she was so _close,_ and yet Reina had backed away with such fear in her expression that she just couldn't have done anything more than what she had. "I'm on the A-team. _We're_ on the A-team, all of us! Isn't that amazing?"

"Hmm? Yeah, Hazuki, that's great." Midori narrowed her eyes before promptly slapping her desk and glaring up at Kumiko.

"Something's up!" she squeaked, pointing an accusing finger. "You're distracted!"

"W-well, uh, I was just thinking about how great it is that we can play in the competition," Kumiko lied. Midori slowly sank back into her seat.

"I don't believe you," she muttered. "It's the look of a fool in love, I know it is."

"You're quite the love expert, aren't you, Midori?" Hazuki said, a teasing tone in her voice that wasn't lost on Midori, who sank even further in the chair.

"It's like a symphony, really," she insisted. "It's something that needs more than just two people to pull off well." Kumiko didn't ask what she meant by that.

* * *

Taki had called the band into the music room for an ensemble meeting while "Team Monaka 2.0," as Hazuki had convinced Gotou to call it, gathering down the hall.

"First, I should say that I'm very proud of all of you who've made it here." A few students clapped. "Please understand that the next several months will be nothing like these first few weeks." Taki leaned in on the conductor's stand slightly, and Kumiko felt the strange urge to back away. She could've sworn that his eyes lit up as he continued. "You will be pushed to your absolute limits. We _will_ play in the Nationals this year, and we _will_ win gold. This is something you knew at the beginning of the year, but it deserves repeating." All sixty band members nodded sharply.

"Yes, sir!"

"Now, there's no need for that." Taki stopped leaning on the stand, much to Kumiko's relief. "Separate back into your sections. We'll hold another ensemble practice next week."

"How can he be even more strict?" a first-year whispered.

"What if he starts screaming at us like in a movie I saw once?" another whispered back.

"I'd be really scared if that happened!"

"You're probably not cut out for this, then," Yuuko breezily sighed, walking by with her ribbon still bouncing on her head.

"What's her deal?" Hazuki asked. Kumiko jumped.

 _How long has she been standing there?_

"She's always like that, just not to you," Natsuki breezily sighed. "It's already getting to her."

"What is?" Hazuki and Kumiko said in unison.

"The stress of being in _practice mode_ now. I wasn't a part of the A-team last year, but I still saw it happen. Tensions rising, tougher sessions, all that." Kumiko solemnly nodded in agreement, remembering last year's disaster. Momo didn't look like she had a single clue as to what Natsuki was talking about. "It's gonna get ugly."

"Bring it on, then!" Hazuki cheered, pumping her fist in the air. "I'll take anything they throw at me!" Kumiko wondered how long she'd be able to keep that optimistic attitude for.

* * *

Reina, unsurprisingly, refused to address what had happened in the classroom earlier that day. The train rattled silently, occasionally causing Reina's shoulder to brush up against Kumiko's, and the quiet that had formed between them was suffocating.

 _We're just tired,_ Kumiko told herself. _We had a long day and everyone's stressed out, that's why we're not talking._ Every time Kumiko thought the word _we,_ she found herself hearing it in Reina's voice.

"The practices aren't going to stop being difficult, you know," Reina said, cutting into Kumiko's thoughts. "It's going to wear us both out."

"Not as much as it will for Natsuki and Yuuko," Kumiko half-joked, forcing a dull chuckle. "We're not in charge of anything. They're probably worried half to death right now, trying to figure everything out."

"Yoshikawa-san acted like she usually did during sectionals. I didn't sense anything different." Kumiko shrugged.

"I guess it's the little things. It's mostly Natsuki I'm worried about."

"You said the same thing during the auditions."

"It's true." Kumiko folded her knees to her chest. "She's got big shoes to fill."

"Asuka-senpai?" Reina said the name like a dirty word, something to be whispered like a secret.

"Yeah." Kumiko caught sight of a cracked tricycle on the side of the tracks, covered in grime and overgrown with weeds, and she wondered how it had ended up there. "I mean, that'll be my position next year. Carrying on Asuka-senpai's legacy, probably ending up as the vice president of the club, keeping her spirit alive."

"You don't _have_ to do that." Reina gripped the edge of her seat. "The whole point of becoming special is doing something others won't, taking the dusty path and clearing the way for yourself or some . . . pretentious nonsense like that." Reina kept her eyes on the floor. Kumiko kept her eyes on Reina.

"I know, I know, b-but I'd be disrespecting her if I just forgot about her."

"She's still around. I'm sure that she'll visit sometime, and even if she doesn't, it shouldn't matter too much. Asuka-senpai graduated last year, Kumiko." Reina tugged at Kumiko's blue scarf, pulling her in close so that Kumiko could smell the rosemary and brass on her breath. "What's done is done, and all we can do is focus on the here and now." The train slowed to a stop. Reina stood up, offering Kumiko her hand. "I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

"Seriously, what's her deal?" Kumiko moaned, lying on her bedroom floor as the cactus stared down at her. She'd been avoiding it ever since the strange dream, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Reina's mixed signals gnawed away at her brain. "I know that it's supposed to be normal for teenage girls to be . . . casually touching each other like that, but I've seen those kinds of friendships! Hazuki and Midori, they're always holding onto each other, but it's different!" The cactus, as usual, remained silent. "Whenever I'm around Reina, it's like there's a . . . current, an electrical current, and she just keeps on _charging_ it. What kind of platonic friend just grabs someone by the scarf like that? What kind of platonic friend confesses their love several times?" Kumiko curled up into a ball. "I know I'm just reading too much into it. I _know_ that, so why won't she just let me down and get it over with?"

 **Reina: I was just making sure that you made it home safe.**

 **Reina: I heard that there were a lot of drunk drivers around, or something like that.**

 **Reina: Did you?**

Kumiko fumbled for her phone, still on the floor, and peered at the messages. She typed out a response before quickly deleting it, refusing to let Reina know what she'd been telling her cactus for the past hour or so.

 **Kumiko: yeah, i didn't see any drunk drivers or anything though**

She wouldn't let Reina know what she'd wanted to say, but the words remained etched, burned into the back of her mind.

 **Kumiko: please tell me what's going on here.**

 **Kumiko: you're being cruel, reina.**

* * *

The first person that Kumiko saw the next morning was not Reina, waiting at the train station with her dark hair flowing behind her and her posture making it clear that she was some sort of trumpeting royalty. It was Nozomi, gripping her flute so tightly that Kumiko was surprised it didn't snap in her hands.

"Oh, uh, Nozomi-senpai," she mumbled. "I didn't know you lived around here. I've never seen you at this station."

"I don't. Natsuki let me stay over at her place for the night."

"Oh." A light breeze whistled through the station, and Kumiko shivered.

"It was nice."

"Yeah." _C'mon, Oumae, think of something._ "I'm sorry about the auditions." Nozomi stiffened, clenching her flute with enough force to turn her knuckles a pearly white.

"Don't worry about it." Nozomi relaxed her grip on the flute. "I was out of practice. That's all. I'm just glad that Mizore made it into the competition team." Her expression took on a dreamy feeling, looking up at the fluffy clouds overhead. "You know, I used to be the president of my middle school's concert band."

"Yeah, I heard."

"And now I'm a month into my last year of high school. Time flies, euphonium girl."

"You're not the first one to tell me that, Nozomi-senpai." Memories of Aoi flashed through Kumiko's mind rather vividly.

"But, despite that, Mizore caught on so quickly. She was able to put such emotion into her pieces. I used to cry whenever I heard her play the oboe." Nozomi blinked quickly, keeping her gaze tilted away from Kumiko. "It was so beautiful. I missed that, when I quit. I missed hearing her music." Nozomi let out a gentle laugh. "I'd have recognized it from anywhere, I think."

"From anywhere?"

"Absolutely." Pink lightly dusted Nozomi's cheeks. Kumiko thought of Reina playing on hilltops, Reina's distinctive sound, and she understood. "I couldn't have dragged her down with me, though. That's how I tried to justify it - it was for her own good. I was pretty dang stupid, wasn't I?"

"You weren't-"

"I'm afraid that I missed the chance to play on that stage with her." Kumiko couldn't have said anything in response to that, nothing to sympathize or to understand. There was regret and defeat and a thousand other things in Nozomi's voice, and all Kumiko could do was stare.

"Kumiko!" Kumiko turned to see Reina, hurrying towards her with her bag thumping against her thigh. "My alarm didn't work this morning. I meant to send you a text, but there wasn't time." Reina glanced at Nozomi. "Kasaki-senpai."

"Kousaka-san," Nozomi replied. "We three should catch the train pretty soon, otherwise we'll all be late to class." Reina followed her silently as Kumiko dragged herself onto the train. Nozomi kept her eyes glued to the window, refusing to sit down. Kumiko watched her curiously. "You two don't mind if I play a bit, right?" Reina shook her head, and Kumiko mumbled a quick _no._ "Cool beans." Nozomi lifted the flute to her lips, and the sound soon drifted across the train car, soothing and gentle. Kumiko closed her eyes and listened, and she figured that Reina was doing the same. The music faded out after a few minutes. Nozomi let the flute fall to her side.

"That was _Polovtsian_ _Dances,_ right?" Kumiko asked. Nozomi nodded.

"I figured it'd be nice to take a break from playing _Eclipse_ so many times, and it's not like I need to learn that one anyway." Reina didn't meet her eye, hands folded tightly in her lap. "I'm going to make Team Monaka proud, though." Nozomi's voice cracked slightly as the train started to slow down, and Kumiko looked up at her slouched figure. "It's the least I can do."

"You should join us before class starts," Reina blurted out. Her voice was even, betraying no emotion, but its suddenness surprised Kumiko to no end. "Kumiko, you're the only one here who needs to get their instrument from the storage room. I'll go with Kasaki-senpai until then."

"Uh, okay?" Kumiko blinked. "I don't see any real problem with that."

"It's settled, then." Reina protectively held onto her trumpet case, as if it'd take on a life of its own and follow Nozomi's influence.

* * *

Kumiko bid a brief, awkward farewell to Nozomi and Reina at the campus's entrance, heading in the direction of Taki's office.

 _This is weird,_ she thought to herself. _This is weird, and I don't know what's going to come out of it, but if it's anything like the-_

"Oh, Kumiko! Sorry, didn't see ya there." Kumiko looked up to see Natsuki barging out of the bathroom with her head down, dark blotches on the sleeve of her uniform like she'd been crying.

"Natsuki, are you-"

"I've gotta go and meet with Taki-sensei and the prez, I can grab the key if you want." She spoke quickly and walked at the same pace, already halfway down the hall when she finished her sentence. "Go and meet with your friends, I'm sure that ya didn't come here alone." Kumiko watched her leave, ponytail bobbing up and down, feeling like her feet were rooted in the ground. "Don't worry about me."

"We'll be in the brass section's usual place!" she called after Natsuki, straining her voice to be heard. Natsuki didn't turn around.

* * *

Kumiko entered the classroom with her euphonium hoisted onto her back, having found the storage room open when she entered it. Natsuki was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, euphonium girl!" Nozomi called from the corner. Reina stood close to her, holding onto her trumpet. "We were starting to wonder if something had happened."

"We only have a few minutes left before class," Reina said matter-of-factly. "Why don't we try the first part of the piece and then call it a morning? Kasaki-senpai, you can join us if you'd like." Nozomi shrugged.

"I don't see why not," she sighed. "I know it by heart anyway."

* * *

"Kasaki-senpai's . . . nice," Reina said, standing by Kumiko's classroom's doorway. "I thought I'd hate her - she'd always seemed shallow and cowardly, in my opinion - but she tries hard. She made a mistake, that's all." Reina nervously twiddled her thumbs, keeping her eyes on the floor. "People just do that sometimes."

"I'm glad you two got along." Kumiko wondered who else Reina was referring to, who else had made mistakes. "I'm going to head inside now, I'll see you at practice." Reina clasped Kumiko's hand before turning to walk down to her own classroom.

"I'll be there."

Hazuki and Midori were wide-eyed when Kumiko entered the classroom, setting down her bag next to Hazuki's ever-present rainbow backpack.

"Did Kousaka-san just . . ." Midori began.

 _". . . walk you to class?!"_ Hazuki chimed in. Both girls watched Kumiko sit down with such intensity that she was reminded of hunting falcons eyeing their prey.

"This is huge!" Midori squeaked, spreading her arms.

"She's taking a page right out of cheesy novels!" Hazuki gasped. "Oh, she's good."

"Reina was just-"

"You can't fool us," Midori butted in.

"Kawashima-san, please calm down." The teacher entered, as polished as ever, and Midori sank into her seat.

"This isn't over," she whispered. Kumiko could only take her word for it.

* * *

"The festival's in a few weeks," Reina mused that evening.

"Hmm?" Kumiko played dumb, knowing full well what festival she was talking about.

"The Agata Festival. I know that we're all busy with practice, but it's something to look forward to. You're coming, aren't you?" Reina didn't phrase it much like a question, more like a request for a confirmation of fact, something that had to be said.

"Y-yeah." The flyer on the train had started to fold at its edges, and someone had scribbled profanity over the dates on it. "Are you . . . going with anyone?" It was a strange little game the two of them had started to play, a script of sorts, as if Kumiko knew just what Reina would say next and vice versa.

"Not at the moment, no." Reina flipped her hair behind her. "You? Tsukamoto's had his eye on you for weeks, you know." Kumiko lightly swatted her arm.

"Jerk," she huffed. Reina laughed, holding a hand to her mouth like a regal queen tittering at her subject. Kumiko could imagine her in a glimmering dress and white gloves, watching the people below her, a snow spirit in her own right.

"Kumiko?" Kumiko pushed away the thoughts of queens and white gloves and dragged herself back into the present. "You never answered my question. Are you going to the festival with anyone?"

"Nope," she replied truthfully. "I'm, uh, n-not going with anyone, nope, nobody!" Reina's eyebrows quirked upwards.

"Is that so?" Kumiko had never quite understood how a voice could be velvety until now, with Reina all but _purring_ the question.

"Yep."

"Tsukamoto hasn't asked you again?"

"The festival's not for another three weeks, Reina," Kumiko chuckled weakly. Reina leaned back, eyes clouded over. The confidence she'd wielded hardly a minute ago seemed to disappear in a flash.

"I can help you keep him from asking you, if you want." Reina didn't look at her as she spoke.

"How?" Kumiko's mind filled with images of Reina punching Shuichi in the face, telling him to stay out of what didn't concern him, keeping him out of Kumiko's life and out of her problems.

"He can't very well ask you to go with him if someone else is taking you, can he?" Reina winked.

"Thanks, Reina." _Friends go to these things all the time, she knows this, it doesn't mean anything, and we went there together last year, anyway. It doesn't mean anything. It can't._ The train hit a bump, and Reina's shoulder brushed Kumiko's.

"Kumiko?" Reina's voice sounded distant, like Kumiko had plunged into a deep lake and heard it from above.

 _It can't._

"Kumiko, you've done this twice in one ride, are you alright?" The skyline had turned a lovely purple.

 _It can't._ "What do you want?" Kumiko held her breath as soon as the words left her mouth, as if she could swallow them back and keep anything else from escaping. Reina turned to her, looking so very fragile and so very vulnerable for scarcely a second before she coughed and regained her composure.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her tone cold and unfeeling.

"I mean, uh, w-what do you want to do over the long weekend?" Kumiko lied. Reina didn't buy it, unsurprisingly, Kumiko knew that much from her unimpressed expression.

"I was thinking about going to the mall." Kumiko stared at her incredulously.

 _Why isn't she saying anything?_

"I need to get a new phone case, this one's cracked." Reina drummed her fingers along the case in question, and Kumiko realized that she was right - a long, jagged crack ran all the way through it. She wondered how it didn't fall apart completely.

"I could, uh, go with you, if you want." Reina started to put the phone back in her bag.

"I don't see a problem with that."

"It's a date, then?" Kumiko silently berated herself for saying it like that as soon as she spoke it aloud. Reina's fingers froze over her bag's zipper, clenching the phone like it was her last hope for safety.

"Yes," Reina said simply. "I'll see you then."

* * *

"I think I got asked on two dates over the span of ten minutes," Kumiko muttered to her ever-reliable cactus. "With the same girl, who says she's in love with a teacher." The cactus looked like it was mocking her, somehow. "I'm going to stop talking to you, y'know. Maybe I'll leave you for Rachel here." She held up the stuffed kitten for emphasis. "Geez, what's her _deal?_ I can't understand her at all! It's l-like she's . . ."

"Kumiko! Dinner!"

"I'll be there in a minute, Mom!" Kumiko stood up, jostling the desk as she did so. "It's like she's scared."

* * *

 **Hazuki: i cant believe youre going on a real date with kousaka-san!**

 **Natsuki: yeah, it's pretty tough for me to believe, too**

 **Natsuki: i'd always thought that you two could only do things straight out of crappy novels, not casual dates**

 **Gotou: This group chat was not a great idea.**

Kumiko couldn't help but chuckle, despite the way her heart felt like it was slamming against the walls of her chest.

 **Momo: kousaka-san's the trumpeter, right?**

 **Momo: the spooky one?**

 **Midori: she's not spooky!**

 **Midori: just...weird.**

 **Kumiko: aren't there things we could do with this group chat that don't involve gossiping about my friends?**

 **Hazuki: right right!**

 **Hazuki: youre already protecting your girlfriend!**

 **Hazuki: thats cute**

Kumiko blinked at the screen, half-expecting the letters to change before her eyes.

 **Kumiko: reina's not...**

 **Kumiko: she's not my girlfriend**

 **Natsuki: sure jan**

Kumiko chuckled before setting her phone down, crawling into bed.

 _She's not._

* * *

Kumiko awoke to see her concerned mother standing over her. Daylight seeped through the windows.

"You were asleep when I came in to check on you."

"Sorry," Kumiko said weakly, flopping over to look back into her pillow.

"It's been fourteen hours, Kumiko."

"I have a thing with Reina in . . . oh, crap."

"What is it?" Kumiko sat up and grabbed her phone. Messages blinked across the screen, almost all of them from Reina.

"Crap, crap, crap- Mom, I have to, uh, get ready for s-something, I'll make sure to have dinner later!" She had already started pulling on the first article of clothing she saw, which happened to be a secret Santa gift she'd received from Natsuki months before and sworn that she'd never wear.

 **Kumiko: i'll be there in twenty minutes, reina**

 **Kumiko: promise**

* * *

"Crap, _crap,_ this was a bad idea!" Kumiko tried desperately to flag down a taxi, waving her hands to any car that passed as she processed what was going on. "I'm going to see Reina in, what, an hour? Probably more, and she thinks I'm going to be there sooner, and I don't even know what we're supposed to _do_ when I do get there- should I buy her something? Is that what people are supposed to do on these things?"

"Hey, are you coming or not?" Kumiko shook her head to clear the thoughts, realizing that a taxi had indeed stopped in front of her. The driver, a man who could've been anywhere from twenty-five to sixty, stared at her with a cigarette drooping from his mouth. "Get in, I'll get you there faster than anyone else."

"Uh, the mall near here? It's got . . . trees around it?" Kumiko's mind blanked on the address as she strapped herself in with a seatbelt that was more duct tape than anything at this point.

"I know which one you're talking about, kiddo." The driver flashed her a grin before slamming his foot on the gas pedal and sending the car hurtling towards the freeway. Kumiko clung to her seatbelt for dear life.

 _Dear Reina,_ she imagined herself writing, although she was too terrified to get out her phone with how fast the taxi was going. _By the time you read this, I will be dead. I wanted you to be the last person I saw before I died - that's how I'd always imagined it, perhaps taking a bullet for you and lying in your arms, something stupid and romantic like that. But, no, it's this crazy old taxi driver and a beat-up old car driving me to the afterlife. Great. I never even got to see the band win gold in Nationals. I never got to kiss you, either, which brings me to my next point. I like you, Reina. I have for a long time. I want to spend days and weeks and months with you, holding your hand, unafraid of what the world would throw at us._

"Ready to run a stoplight, kid?" Kumiko shook her head, keeping her mouth shut for fear of accidentally saying something that might propel the driver to go faster.

 _I don't know if you feel the same way, but I wanted to give you time in any case. Time to figure everything out, so I wasn't going to rush you into anything. I guess I've run out of time, though. I wish I'd said something._

"Looks like we're almost here." Another car whizzed by, uncomfortably close.

 _I wish I'd told you everything._

"Welcome to the nondescript mall." The taxi driver held out a greasy, chubby hand, and Kumiko dropped several bills into it.

"T-thanks," she stuttered, sliding out the door with a sigh of relief. She could've kissed the ground.

"Kumiko!" Kumiko turned her attention away from the taxi driving away to see Reina bounding towards her. "You weren't late."

"Did you think I would be?" Kumiko teased. Reina shrugged.

"I might have," she sighed. "That's . . . certainly a jacket." Kumiko looked down and turned red.

"Y-yep."

"Well, anyway, we should find the phone case stalls. They'll probably be opening right around now." Kumiko nodded in agreement, thoughts of the taxi ride from hell already fading away.

* * *

"Hey, what about this one? It has Tuba-kun on it." Kumiko pointed to one of the cases eagerly, rocking back and forth on her heels. There was something about the bustle of the people around her, the energy, that filled her with some strange kind of plastic-feeling energy. She knew that it'd fade as soon as Reina left, or as soon as she left the building - whichever came first - but somehow she couldn't find it in herself to care. Reina put a finger on her chin, curiously looking at the phone cases like a connoisseur perusing fine art.

"This one's nice, too." Reina pointed to a case with the moon and stars painted on it in watercolor, glinting slightly in the harsh light of the mall.

"Yeah." Kumiko tapped her shoe on the tiled floor, polished to a gleam. "I could, uh, buy this for you if you want."

"You don't have to do that."

"Your birthday's coming up, isn't it? Consider this an early present." Kumiko dug out what money she had left in her bag after the taxi, handing it to a tired-looking clerk who pushed aside empty cups of coffee to ring up the purchase.

"Thank you, Kumiko." Reina snapped off the old phone case, tossing the broken pieces into a nearby trashcan, before putting the new one on her phone. Kumiko found herself looking at the trashcan for a moment longer than she needed to. "I'll be sure to take good care of it."

* * *

"This is nice," Kumiko said, twirling her straw around in the milkshake in front of her. "Just, the two of us, hanging out like normal teenagers. It's fun." Reina nodded in agreement.

"I've seen movies like this," she murmured. "Usually, the characters are drinking from the same glass, but you don't like this kind and I don't like the kind that you ordered, so I guess we're even." Kumiko knew just what kinds of movies she was talking about, but she decided not to press the issue.

 _Give it time, give it time._

"I'm going to head to the bathroom for a minute, could you take care of my things while I'm gone?"

"Y-yeah." Reina walked away, and Kumiko was left alone with two half-empty milkshakes and Reina's purse.

"What, you think it'll all just magically disappear if we stop thinking about it?" Kumiko sat up, cautiously picking up Reina's purse as she headed in the direction of the familiar voice.

"Of course I don't think that- what, do ya take me for some kind of idiot?" Kumiko peeked out from behind the large potted plant she'd used for cover to see Natsuki and Yuuko sitting at a table for two, stacks of paperwork between them.

"What do you want, then? Why'd you bring me here?" Yuuko sounded just as grating as she always did, and Kumiko saw her hand curl around one of the sheets of paper until it was a crumpled ball.

"I was thinking that the two of us could, I dunno, have some fun? Hang out, like real-"

"What's that?" Yuuko looked right in Kumiko's direction, narrowing her eyes. Kumiko scrambled to duck behind the plant just as Reina walked back to her table. "Hmm. I thought I heard something."

"Kumiko?" Kumiko looked up to see Reina's very confused expression staring down at her. "Why were you hiding behind a plant?"

"Oh, uh, I was just . . . looking at it! It's really pretty, I don't think the food court people are taking good care of it, though." Reina stifled a laugh.

"Well, I suppose that's as good a sign as any to say that we should get going. I still need to practice, and the homework's already started to become a bit overwhelming." Reina had already started for the exit before she'd even finished her sentence, and Kumiko could only follow her. The doors slid open, the spring air hitting Kumiko like a fan. Reina smiled. "Thank you for the phone case, by the way. It's lovely."

"It's n-no problem," Kumiko stuttered. "Do you have a ride home?"

"My house is close enough to here that I can bike to it."

"Oh." Kumiko paused, scuffing her shoe on the uneven pavement. "I'll see you on Tuesday, then?" Reina nodded.

"Tuesday," she confirmed, already starting to walk away. Kumiko watched her leave with a strangely heavy feeling in her chest.

She took the bus home.

* * *

The weekend passed by in a blur, as did the following weeks, the days seeming to smudge into each other with endless practices and homework and train rides home. Kumiko's caretaker had ceased sending their packages for some reason, though she suspected that it had something to do with how uneventful her life seemed to be lately. If they did have some kind of way to know what she was doing, creepy as that was, they wouldn't waste time and money on sending her things she didn't need during a boring lull such as mid-May.

It was on one of these days that Kumiko found herself alone with Hazuki as the evening sky filled up the landscape behind her, sitting on the train in awkward quiet.

"Hey, Kumiko, the Agata Festival's in a week, isn't it?" Kumiko nodded.

"I'm going there with Reina." Hazuki grinned mischievously.

"Figures," she giggled. "You two lovebirds are gonna have so much fun there!"

"What about you? Has anyone asked you there yet?" Hazuki shook her head.

"I'm probably just going with Midori and her little sister. She's so cute, Kumiko, I dunno if you've met her before, but she's like a tiny version of Midori! I mean, Midori's already tiny, but she's even tinier. You know what I mean, right?"

"I . . . guess?"

"And don't worry about us interrupting your _date,_ we'll be sure to keep out of your way! It'll be like I'm invisible! Midori, too."

"Thanks." Kumiko rubbed the fabric of her skirt between her fingers, keeping her head down. "Hazuki?"

"Yeah?"

"What was it . . . like, being on Team Monaka?" Hazuki wrinkled her brow in concentration.

"Hmm . . . well, everyone was really nice. I guess there's a special kind of bond you can form with people when you've all been kicked off the team, hehe. Natsuki sorta took charge, and we just tried to do our best with what we'd been given." The train jostled a bit. "Why do you ask?"

"I've just been thinking about it, I guess. Nozomi-senpai seems really upset about it."

"Kasaki-senpai? Oh, you're friends with her, right?"

"Not really. It's more like we h-have . . . mutual friends, I guess, and I happened to be in the right place at the right time for some stuff with her last year. That seems to happen a lot, lately. Running into people when I shouldn't."

"It's all just luck, right?" Hazuki looked up at the poster, which now had a fair amount of genitalia drawn on it. "We're all lucky or unlucky when it comes to something. You're unlucky when it comes to other people's problems, but you're really lucky when it comes to love. You and Kousaka-san, you're like gay soulmates."

"It's just . . . it's just soulmates. You don't have to say 'gay soulmates.'" Hazuki smirked. "What?"

"So, you admit that you two are soulmates, then?" Kumiko stiffened, cheeks turning red.

"I never said that!" she yelped.

"You just did." Hazuki had taken on the appearance of a smug cat. "Well, anyway, good luck to you two. Maybe you'll even confess your love! Wouldn't that be romantic?"

"You're starting to sound like Midori."

"I guess she's rubbed off on me." Hazuki hugged herself, smiling softly. "I'm really glad that I'll be playing with everyone in the competition, Kumiko. I'm so glad." Kumiko thought of Nozomi's quiet sadness, the regret she'd held in her face that morning on the train, and she blinked back tears.

"Me too, Hazuki."

* * *

"That was a good practice today, everyone," Taki said days later, resting his hands on the conductor's stand. "You've all shown improvement. The first competition is in less than a month, however, so you can't become lazy. Still, I'm proud of all of you, and I hope that you enjoy the festival tonight. What's the point of youth if you don't have fun once in a while, after all?"

 _Crap. The festival._ Kumiko looked to Natsuki, who simply leaned back in her chair, then to Momo, whose eyes lit up at the mention of the festival at all, and then finally to Reina, who stared ahead as if Taki hadn't said anything at all. _I've completely forgotten about it, with how busy everything's been lately._

"Did you forget that it was tonight or something?" Natsuki sighed. Kumiko blinked.

"You could tell?"

"Sweaty palms, looking back and forth like your murderer's about to enter the room, muttering 'oh crap' to yourself, it'd be pretty hard _not_ to notice." Momo sagely nodded, seeming to hang onto Natsuki's every word.

"Oumae-senpai, you're going with Kousaka-senpai the trumpet, right?"

"Yeah." Momo adjusted her round glasses as she stepped out of her chair.

"Then, well . . ." Natsuki raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

"Nakagawa-senpai, would you go to the festival with me?" Momo sank to the floor on her knees. Natsuki rubbed her temples with a sigh, and Kumiko could see the bags under her eyes making themselves clear once again.

"I'm going with the prez, but you're free to tag along if ya want."

"I'd love to," Momo breathed.

"Ah, Momo-chan, you could come with me and Midori if you want!" Hazuki butted in. "Natsuki and the president might have important business to discuss, you know. Third-year stuff." Momo looked at her like she'd just suggested eating an entire horde of bees. "Or not, I'm fine either way!"

"I'm going to go find Reina, you guys can go ahead without me." Kumiko stood up, hoisting her euphonium in her arms.

"Understood!" Hazuki chirped, mock-saluting her. Kumiko muttered a quick _thanks_ and hurried through the crowd of students, looking for the familiar face she'd known so well.

"Reina!" she called. "Reina, where are you?"

"I'm right here." Kumiko turned around, and she wondered if it was the lighting of the room or the lightheadedness she'd felt after playing the same piece for two hours, but there was something strikingly beautiful about the way Reina looked in that very moment. "What did you need?"

"I was, uh, w-wondering where you wanted to meet." Reina tilted her head to the side curiously.

"The entrance to the festival, obviously. Six-o-clock works for me." Kumiko felt oddly faint.

"Y-you don't want to go back up the mountain?" Reina shrugged.

"I'd like to, but there's a certain novelty in only going somewhere once. The memory can't be tainted that way. If you want to, though-"

"No, no, it's fine! We can just go to the regular old festival, that sounds like a plan to me!" Kumiko's stomach churned, some warning she couldn't understand. "I'll see you there, then?" Reina nodded.

"Tonight. Six. Don't be late."

"I won't!" Reina smiled and walked away, her dark hair flowing behind her like a curtain. "Oh, crap."

* * *

Kumiko walked through the hallway alone a few minutes later with euphonium case lifted in her arms. Her footsteps echoed around the empty hall, ominous as they could be.

"It's tonight," she muttered to herself. "The festival's tonight."

"You're going to it, then?" Kumiko jumped.

"Who said that?"

"I did." Mizore stepped into the harsh light of the window to face her, keeping her head low enough that Kumiko couldn't quite see her expression. "I wasn't expecting you to go. I didn't see you there last year."

"Oh, w-well, I was actually-"

"Oumae-san, do you think that Nozomi should've gotten into the competition team?" Kumiko twiddled her fingers nervously. Mizore looked like she was expecting one answer, and Kumiko was afraid of what she'd do if she answered wrong.

"I mean, I . . . guess? She's really good, and one flute doesn't seem like enough for the whole band, but I don't know her well enough to really tell you." Mizore's face remained blank. "Sorry."

"I'm going to leave now."

"Okay?" Mizore stumbled off without so much as a wave.

"Goodbye, Oumae-san."

* * *

"I thought that these had stopped coming."

"What?" Kumiko looked down to see a neatly wrapped package without a return address, and it was like reuniting with an old friend. She grabbed it and ran into her room without a second thought. Tearing open the wrapping paper, she found a letter written in familiar handwriting.

 _To the nervous one-_

 _It's been a while, hasn't it? I've been busy with personal life things, unfortunately. Still, I knew that I had to find time to send you this! It's festival season, if I'm not mistaken, and festivals are sort of like school dances, aren't they? Not really, but this works anyway._

Kumiko put aside the letter to look inside the box, where two matching purple corsages sat nestled in more tissue paper. She curiously brushed her finger along the tips of the fake flowers.

 _I hope this works out for you. I wish you the best of luck with this._

 _~someone who'd enjoy seeing young love in the early summer_

Kumiko picked up one of the corsages, pretending to pin it to her uniform with a wide smile on her face.

 _Thank you,_ she thought, though she knew full well that her caretaker couldn't possibly hear her. _Thank you so much._

* * *

Kumiko waited by the entrance with Reina's corsage in her hands, tugging at the ends of her sweater nervously. Weeds sprouted up from the cracks in the sidewalk, and Kumiko looked at them as she waited for Reina to show up.

"I hope you weren't waiting long." Kumiko tore her gaze away from the plants to see Reina in another white dress, looking even more like a snow spirit than she had this time last year. "The traffic was awful."

"It's, uh, n-no problem," Kumiko stuttered. "Here, I got you this. Hold out your hand." Reina did, and Kumiko fastened the corsage around her wrist as she tried not to turn too visibly red. Her heart seemed to be threatening to burst.

"Thank you."

"What should we do first?"

"I suppose we could look at the food stands."

"Hmm, yeah." It occurred to Kumiko that she had never been to the festival as a high school student, and her memories of going to it beforehand were blurry at best. "You could get lost in here, really." Reina took hold of her hand, the corsage's plastic petals tickling her skin.

"I'll make sure that we know just where we're going," she said.

"Thanks."

* * *

"Ooh, I used to be really good at this one!" Kumiko pointed to a game lined with children and begrudging parents, grungy stuffed animals hanging by hooks above the plastic goblets. "I mean, it was obviously rigged, but I was good at getting the little prizes."

"Maybe you'll be able to get the bigger ones now that _you're_ bigger," Reina pointed out. "If it isn't still rigged against you, which it probably is."

"There's no harm in trying, though." Kumiko pushed up her sleeves, digging money out of her bag as the line moved along. She slammed down the bills on the counter before tossing the plastic ball at the goblets, to no avail.

"Better luck next time, kiddo," the woman running the stand sighed.

"I'm going to try this," Reina said, pushing Kumiko aside and picking up one of the balls. "Kumiko, do you think you could find a stand with something for us to eat? I'll pay you back in a minute, I want to give these people their money's worth." There was a somewhat terrifying glint in Reina's eye, enough for Kumiko to back away from the stand. She was just about to look for a food stall when a small, bespectacled figure barreled into her.

"Ow," Kumiko muttered, rubbing her head. The figure stopped to look down.

"Oumae-senpai?"

"Momo?" Kumiko stood back up. "What're you doing here? I thought you were with Natsuki."

"She told me to find a place that sells ice cream, I wasn't about to let her down. I wish I could keep chatting with you, but I've got to find it as fast as I can!" Momo took off running again, and Kumiko couldn't help but chuckle.

"I guess that means they're having some argument," she sighed. "At least Natsuki had the sense to keep Momo out of it." She continued down the gravelly path, sometimes checking out a stall for a bit longer than she had to, until she finally found one that promised a "delicious romantic meal for two, right in your hands!"

". . . all it means is that Taki-sensei wanted every student to have a fair chance, bias didn't have anything to do with it!" Kumiko felt a chill run down her spine. "You're acting like I'd throw the whole audition process into chaos just to spare the feelings of someone I lo- someone I cared about?"

"You've done it before." Kumiko tried to duck out of the line, but she was already caught up in the flurry of people around her.

 _I'm trapped._

"I don't want her to get hurt again. Isn't that something worth screwing with the auditions for, anyway?" Kumiko caught sight of Yuuko's ribbon and Natsuki's ponytail above the heads of the crowd.

"You did it, then?"

"Of course not!" The ribbon sharply moved. "I'd never do that, but only because of the band. If it were up to me and me alone, I'd do it in a heartbeat. She's gonna get hurt again, Natsuki." Yuuko's voice cracked a bit, and Kumiko froze in her spot. Nozomi's face flashed through her mind again, as did the way she'd looked so lovingly at Mizore.

 _She didn't mean to hurt anyone._

"Doesn't that matter to you? Don't you care about _anyone?"_

"What, ya think I 'don't?' You think I don't care about the band, about Kumiko, about _you?"_ The ponytail dipped below the crowd, and Kumiko could easily imagine Natsuki curled in on herself. "Stop taking everything like an assault on your honor and start looking out for the people who're gonna get hurt otherwise." Natsuki started to walk off, and Kumiko stiffened when she realized that her footsteps were getting closer. "Oh, Kumiko!"

"Hey." Kumiko awkwardly waved.

"You're here with Kousaka, right?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry that ya had to hear that whole thing with the prez, we just had some . . . disagreements, about the audition results. I'm just glad I got in, honestly. Team Monaka's great, but I wanted to play on that great big stage just once before I graduated. You get it, right?"

"Yeah." _Say something else, idiot._

"It's nice out here." Natsuki breathed in the air, spreading her arms out so that her jacket flapped a bit in the breeze. "Peaceful."

"Yeah." Kumiko wanted to smack herself.

"Well, I'm gonna head off. Have fun on your date!"

"It's not a . . . and she's gone. Great."

"I found you." Reina approached her with a tiny stuffed goat in her arms. "You were right, the game's completely rigged. I might have to wait a while to pay you back for that." She gestured to Kumiko's bowls.

"Actually, uh, I was thinking that maybe we could go up the mountain after all? It's just a short walk from here, right?"

"If we walk quickly. What changed your mind?" Kumiko saw Momo hurrying back with three ice creams in her hands.

"Nothing, really."

* * *

"It's so much easier to walk up here without our instruments," Kumiko sighed contentedly. The night sky seemed to dye the trees and the ground a lovely shade of blue, and the whole place seemed like something out of a daydream. "We're already close to the summit, aren't we?" Reina walked in time with her, still holding her hand. The corsage rustled slightly.

"I think so."

"Yeah, it's right up there!" Kumiko pointed to a spot glowing with streetlights, and she started running for it with Reina's hand still held tightly in her own.

"Kumiko, wait-"

"I'm so sorry." Kumiko stopped dead in her tracks. Reina bumped into her, and before either girl had fully regained their composure, Kumiko had ducked behind a bush and dragged Reina down with her. "Mizore, I didn't want it to be like this either." Kumiko could make out Nozomi and Mizore's figures with their backs towards her and Reina, holding each other close as teardrops fell on the concrete.

"We're never going to show them how we are . . . together. I don't know how you stomach it, Nozomi. You're the best out of all of them." Mizore shook like a leaf as she spoke.

"I messed up a lot," Nozomi sniffled. "I wasted so much time. I _deserve_ this, but I don't like it anyway. It should've been us, Mizore. It should've always been us, together."

"It's my fault, I should've talked to you sooner." Nozomi pulled Mizore closer so that the smaller girl's head rested on her shoulder. "I was too afraid of knowing what I'd always feared."

"You thought you were one in a dozen, I know, I know." Nozomi stroked Mizore's back gently, as if she were made of glass and would shatter under her touch. "I never thought that, you know."

"We figured it out too late." Mizore started shaking again, hiccups coming through and turning into choked sobs. "We're never going to go to the Nationals together."

"It's my fault," Nozomi repeated. "I'm sorry, Mizore. You know I'd do anything to change it, right?"

"I'd do anything too," Mizore whispered. She clung to Nozomi's shirt with trembling fingers. "I . . I lo-"

"I do too, I do too," Nozomi whispered back before Mizore had even finished her sentence.

"Remember that, no matter what." There was a note of desperation in Mizore's voice. "Please." Kumiko turned away with her heart thudding.

"We should go," she gasped, feeling like she'd just been dragged out of a raging ocean by the scruff of her neck. "I don't think we should be watching them like this."

"Agreed." Reina crept away first, and Kumiko took one last look at the two girls entwined in a sobbing heap before she followed Reina back down the well-worn-down path.

* * *

"I'll see you at practice," Kumiko said once the two of them had reached the foot of the mountain. It was the first time that either girl had spoken since witnessing Nozomi and Mizore's tearful exchange.

"Right. Thank you again for the corsage." Reina seemed detached, exhausted, and Kumiko figured it was best not to ask her more questions. "Goodbye, Kumiko."

"Bye, Reina."

The mountain didn't fade from her thoughts for the rest of the night.

* * *

The weekend passed, Kumiko's thoughts occupied almost entirely by what she'd witnessed at the festival as navy ribbons were switched out for pastel blues, the lightness of summer beginning to make its way through the school. Hazuki and Midori sat up curiously in their seats as soon as Kumiko entered the classroom that Monday morning.

"How was it?" Midori asked, leaning over Kumiko's shoulder.

"Did you two make out in a tree?" Hazuki asked, leaning over Midori's shoulder.

"We didn't do any of that," Kumiko deadpanned. "We just went out and h-had some nice food, played games, just . . . festival stuff."

"Aww, that's it?" Hazuki sounded oddly disappointed. "Aren't festival nights supposed to be magical or something? I mean, _mine_ wasn't, but you know . . ."

"That's quite enough, Katou-san," the teacher sighed, bending down to look Hazuki dead in the eye. She backed away in her chair.

"Y-yes, sir!" she squeaked.

* * *

Kumiko entered practice that day with a heavy feeling in her chest, as if someone had started to wedge a stone there but had given up halfway through. Natsuki sat in her usual seat with her hands curled protectively around her euphonium, struggling to keep her head up. Momo, on the other hand, looked to be positively glowing. Kumiko caught sight of Mizore fiddling with her oboe nervously, her eyes red at the edges.

"As I'm sure you're all aware, the competition is in just a few weeks. If this had been a standard curriculum, this would be the time we had auditions." Taki smiled to himself as if he'd made a joke. "However, we've already had them, and so this will simply be a period of intense practices. You've all shown enough competence that I believe you'll do fine, but that's still no reason to let your guards down."

"T-Taki-sensei?" Sixty pairs of eyes focused on Mizore's hunched figure, sixty heads swiveled like owls to see her. "I'd like to make a request." Yuuko froze in place, mouth falling open.

"Yes, Yoroizuka-san?" Mizore stood up, clenching her hand into a fist.

"I'd like to give up my position in the competition for the sake of Nozomi Kasaki."

* * *

 **a/n:** dun dun dun...


	7. Presidential Confrontation

**a/n:** i heard hazuki had an eight-pack. that hazuki was shredded.

i feel like i hyped up this chapter too much, there wasn't as much angst as it seemed in the outline

* * *

"You . . . you can't do that!" Yuuko practically flung her chair away to look at Mizore. Kumiko could see her gulping back tears. "Mizore, this is your last chance to play in the Nationals with everyone! Taki-sensei, you know how ridiculous this is, right?"

"While it's true that Yoroizuka-san is the only oboe here and we'd suffer a great loss if she quit, it's not up to me to decide what the students want. I had considered Kasaki-san as a backup if anything were to happen to any of you, and if this is what you really want, Yoroi-"

"It is." Mizore still sounded as breathy and nervous as she usually did, but there was something else in her tone, too.

 _Determination,_ Kumiko thought as she watched the scene unfold. _That's what it is._

"Please, Taki-sensei, let me do this for her. She's learned the flute part, she knows it all, you won't have to teach her anything new. She deserves it more than me."

"It's decided, then." Yuuko looked as if she'd just been stabbed through the heart with a rusted dagger. "I won't allow any petty disagreements between you all to affect the band's overall well-being. Kasaki-san, talented young woman that she is, will join us beginning tomorrow."

"Thank you." Mizore slid back into her chair. Natsuki quietly elbowed Kumiko in the ribs.

"What?"

"Did you know about this?" Natsuki whispered. Kumiko thought back to the mountain.

"I didn't. Nozomi's _your_ friend, wouldn't you be more likely to know?" Natsuki kicked back her chair with one foot.

"Eh, I figured you'd maybe have a clue about what this whole deal is about, since you're always lurking around anyway. I don't know how you do it, Kumiko."

"Do what?" Natsuki smirked, folding her hands behind her head.

"How you always find yourself tangled up in other people's crap, facing problems that don't really concern you, and you take 'em on anyway. It's weird. I've never been able to understand that."

"I don't mean to do it."

"Yeah, but ya still do. I'd just leave it alone, if I was in your place." Kumiko ran her fingers along the spine of her chair.

"It's not . . . it's not some kind of big heroic gesture or anything. I don't try to do this stuff. I don't want to hurt people, but I don't feel a compulsion to help everyone, either. It just happens, I guess."

"It's still weird." Kumiko could see Yuuko shaking Mizore by the shoulders, sobbing out things she couldn't focus on long enough to hear.

"Yeah, I guess it is."

* * *

"That was strange, even for Yoroizuka-senpai," Reina noted that night on the train, a hint of disdain in her voice. "For someone so brilliant at the oboe, she was quick to give it up for someone she loved." Practice had gone late, and so the stars had started to dot the sky. Kumiko could see them reflected in the train's window. "It's selfish."

"It's romantic."

"She's jeopardizing the band's chances of winning - of making it past Kyoto, even." Reina let out a scoff.

"It's not that bad, Reina. You've heard Nozomi, she's great. Sure, it sucks that we don't have an oboe anymore, but the band's good enough to survive without Mizore-senpai. It's not the kind of thing that depends on one person. Nobody's the center."

"Taki-sensei, maybe."

"Maybe." Reina flicked the Oboe-kun keychain she'd received from Hazuki and Midori months before. "Did your mom say anything else about his quitting?"

"He isn't quitting." Reina's voice turned sharp, defensive, and Kumiko inched away. "His contract's running out. Taki-sensei wouldn't quit."

"You still haven't gotten over him, have you?" Kumiko teased, lightly punching Reina's arm. She froze when her hand made contact with skin, the electricity she should've been used to by now starting to flood her veins until she was drowning in it, drowning in _Reina,_ and it wasn't until Reina slowly pushed down her arm that she realized that she had stopped moving. Reina herself started to scoot to the other side of her seat.

"I can't."

"What?"

"I _can't_ get over him. I won't." Kumiko took a deep breath, cautiously resting her hand on top of Reina's.

"Listen, Reina, I know what I told you back when . . . back when all of the stuff with Asuka-senpai had just happened. He doesn't have a wife now, you're really mature, all that."

"Terrible things, yes."

"Well . . . yeah. Exactly. It was my terrible personality showing through, like it always does." Kumiko twirled a loose thread from her uniform around her finger until it turned red. "Maybe I shouldn't have said that stuff when I did." Reina visibly recoiled. "He's twice your age, Reina. I'm sure that there're other people, people our age, who'd give an arm and a leg to be with you." Kumiko started to fumble for what to say next. "I mean, you're really pretty and everything you say is really interesting and you play the trumpet really well, w-who _wouldn't_ want to date you?"

"Taki-sensei," Reina bluntly replied.

"All I'm saying is that there're other fish in the sea. Other boys or girls or whatever." Reina breathed in sharply.

"I'm focusing on my work," she muttered. It didn't sound like she was really talking to Kumiko, not anymore. "I'm too young for romance, anyway."

"Sure." Kumiko didn't know if she could have said anything else.

* * *

Kumiko clicked the _play_ button on her CD player that night and let her caretaker's playlist slowly drift over her. Mamiko had asked her if she'd want something more modern as a birthday present or something like that, but she'd refused. There was something irreplaceable about the feeling of the disc in her hands that she couldn't really imagine it any other way. She found herself remembering the last time she'd listened to a CD with someone - Asuka's father's music, though Kumiko hadn't known it at the time.

 _I wonder how she's doing._ The songbook still resided permanently in her bag. _I hope she's happy, wherever she is. Maybe she's not going to college at all, maybe she's just a crazy traveling musician annoying people overseas._ Kumiko smiled at the thought. _Or maybe she joined the circus, or started working on writing her own euphonium-centric musical._ Kumiko's phone started beeping, and she checked the messages to be greeted with a nearly incoherent string of texts from the brass section.

 **Natsuki: hey if any of you are up i'm having some leadership problems**

 **Hazuki: its nine!**

 **Hazuki: whod be asleep at nine?**

 **Momo: ahem**

 **Natsuki: anyway, madam president's got her ribbons in a twist because of what happened earlier today**

 **Momo: oh, with yoroizuka-senpai?**

 **Momo: i thought it was sweet**

 **Natsuki: yeah, we all appreciate the gesture, it doesn't change how**

 **Natsuki: k UMIKO YOU'Re A PART OF THIS CHAT RIGHG.?**

 **Natsuki: please!**

 **Natsuki: she's just going to get hurt**

 **Midori: what's happening**

 **Natsuki: you know what that's like, right?**

 **Natsuki: wanting to protect someone?**

 **Natsuki: at any cost, even if you have to steal a phone to get help and do it**

 **Midori: oh**

 **Natsuki: kasaki /hurt/ her and i'm happy that they made up but how long's it gonna last?**

 **Natsuki: she doesn't have to do this**

 **Natsuki: she doesn't have to give up everything**

There weren't any messages for a moment.

 **Natsuki: okay i got my phone back**

 **Natsuki: god, she's fast**

 **Natsuki: nimble, too**

 **Natsuki: sorry to anyone who saw that**

 **Natsuki: as i was saying, it doesn't change how it's messed with a lot of people's...ideas, i guess that's the best way to put it**

 **Natsuki: some of the first-years are starting to email yuuko, asking if their friends can join in the competition team too, and we have to keep telling 'em no**

 **Natsuki: nozomi was an exception**

 **Natsuki: it's not even up to us, it's taki-sensei's problem**

 **Natsuki: it wouldn't even /be/ a problem if the prez wasn't so upset**

 **Natsuki: i guess she's upset about not being able to see this coming**

 **Momo: so is yoroizuka-senpai going to stay in the competition team or not?**

 **Natsuki: she left**

 **Natsuki: it was her choice and she left, nozomi's probably gonna start showing up to practices tomorrow**

 **Natsuki: anyone who has a problem with that just needs to get over themselves**

Kumiko shut off the phone and sighed, holding the songbook to her chest.

 _Or maybe she's just sitting in a classroom somewhere, tired and bored._

* * *

"Hey, Reina, what do you think Asuka-senpai's doing right around now?" Kumiko had refused rather pointedly to ask Reina about yesterday, but it wouldn't have mattered either way - Reina never seemed to want to talk about anything deeper than the surface with her own problems.

"I wouldn't know." Reina toyed with her Oboe-kun keychain idly. "You still care about her, don't you?"

"In a friendly way, yeah."

"You still feel some kind of connection to her." There was sharp accusation in Reina's tone, harshness and yet a strange bit of nervousness to it. Kumiko elected to ignore it the best she could.

"Listen, Reina, a lot of things happened last year. I learned some things about her, it'd be hard _not_ to think about someone after all that. Besides, she's another euph. There aren't many of us. I feel the same sort of thing with Natsuki and even Momo, to some extent."

"I suppose there are enough trumpets that I really couldn't ever feel the same way. Yoshikawa-senpai isn't exactly the friendliest person, you know that better than I do." Kumiko thought of her many overheard conversations, the way Yuuko seemed to talk with her teeth bared, and she knew.

"A-anyway, I was just thinking about it since everything's been . . . happening, lately." Reina smiled wryly.

"You'll have to be more specific than that."

"She'd never have let Mizore get away with what she did. She'd have probably kicked her out of the club right there on the spot, or at least stopped the switch."

"I might not have liked her much, but she never let her emotions get in the way of anything she did. That's something . . . nice." Kumiko cocked her head in confusion.

"You don't do that, either." Reina tightened her grip on her trumpet case.

"I've let my feelings tell me what to do more times than I can count."

 _Taki-sensei, Taki-sensei, Taki-sensei._ The name danced around Kumiko's head like a taunt, mocking her, daring her to say something about it. "Yeah, but you've never, uh, l-lost your cool in front of other people. Even when you're mad, or doing something crazy like challenging a third-year's skills, you always seem so composed. It's like nothing bothers you." She knew, of course, that this wasn't true - she'd seen Reina's mask crack before, she knew that there was someone beneath that exterior, but she couldn't let Reina know that, and so she let her duct-tape the mask back on and went along like she hadn't seen anything.

"That's how you get people to respect you. Don't show any weaknesses, don't let them know what gets under your skin. That's what I learned, anyway, and it's worked so far."

"Right." The train rolled into the station, and Kumiko didn't talk until she bid Reina a quiet _goodbye_ at the classroom entrance.

"Kousaka-san's been walking you to class a lot lately, hasn't she?" Hazuki purred, resting her chin in her hands. Kumiko could see her swinging her legs under her desk.

"Hazuki-chan, I don't think that twice counts as _a lot,"_ Midori interjected.

"Midori, that's actually really-"

"Of course, it doesn't change the other things she's done around you lately!" Midori stood up on her chair, still only towering about a head above Kumiko. "You two are destined! It's written in the stars, you're destined to be together!"

"It's the red string of fate!" Hazuki added. "You're tied together by it, and nothing can break it, ever!" Kumiko had never before felt such a desire to sink into her chair as she did now. The teacher entered with a telltale _clip-clop_ of his shoes, and Midori hopped back from her desk with alarming speed.

* * *

Nozomi made her way into practice that day like an enemy soldier waving a white flag, her flute a weapon clenched in fearful hands. She slid into her spot as a ghost might, every movement flowing into the next, always afraid of being seen. For the most part, everyone acted like she was a ghost, too, save for Natsuki's quick wave and a huff of disapproval from Yuuko. Taki didn't act as if anything different had happened. It was a bit unsettling, now, how thick-skinned he always seemed to be. He never lost his temper, never cried, never made his feelings particularly clear.

 _Maybe it's a ruse,_ Kumiko thought as she shifted her euphonium's weight on her lap until it was somewhere near comfortable. _Maybe he used to be a lot happier._

"Psst, Kumiko." Kumiko sat up straight, letting out a surprised _"bweh!"_ as she did so. Natsuki had leaned in close, her hands resting on her knees. "Keep an eye on Nozomi, will ya? I want to make sure she's okay, but that one percussionist is . . . really tall. I can't see her."

"Why don't you ask Momo?" The girl in question was busy digging through her bag for her sheet music.

"She doesn't know who Nozomi is."

"Right." Kumiko suspected that there might be a bit more to it than that.

"Anyway, it's just 'cause it's her first day. I'm sure it'll die down after this."

* * *

It didn't.

The band still stared Nozomi down every time she entered the room, still treated her like she didn't belong. It was unsettling, to say the least, but Kumiko knew that she shouldn't - couldn't - say anything about it, not when Natsuki and Yuuko could hardly hold themselves upright.

 _It's none of my business,_ she convinced herself in the following weeks, as the Kyoto competition drew ever closer and the practices grew ever stricter.

"You know, Kasaki-senpai's being really brave, doing what she's doing even with everyone being all spooky around her," Hazuki said one day, strolling in time with Kumiko, Reina, and Midori on the way home from school. "I'd never be able to do that. Just the thought of everyone glaring at me like that . . ." She shivered.

"The piece hasn't suffered from the lack of an oboe, at least." Reina spoke up for the first time that evening. "Kasaki-senpai picked it up fairly quickly."

"Well, yeah. I mean, she used to be the president of the concert band in her middle school. That's a pretty tough task, isn't it?"

"She might've been a bit more suited to that position than our current leaders." Kumiko didn't miss the contempt in Reina's voice. "I think it's a bit much for them."

"Oh, yeah! Yoshikawa-senpai's in charge of your section, isn't she?" Hazuki snapped her barrette between her fingers until they turned red. "That must be tough. I'll bet she's super scary when Taki-sensei's not around, I always got that . . . vibe from her."

"Vibe?" Reina echoed.

"I get it too!" Midori interjected. "It's like she's a steaming kettle, ready to explode!" She made a comical motion with her arms to further her point. "It's always the cute ones."

"You're one to talk," Kumiko said.

"I think there's more to it than some pent-up anger," Reina mused. "Everyone has that."

"Even you, Kousaka-san?" Hazuki breathed. Kumiko had to hold back laughter.

"Everyone," Reina repeated. "It's not just that. The president has a cool head about her when she has to, she wouldn't be this angry about a small shift like this. It's . . . it's her feelings." Reina stopped, shoes scuffing the uneven concrete sidewalk. Kumiko could see her chest rise and fall like she'd just been running. "It's just like last year, when she defended Kaori-senpai. It wasn't for the good of the band. It wasn't even for herself. It was just stupid, _stupid_ dedication."

"You're saying that she's gay for Yoroizuka-senpai?" Hazuki gasped. Kumiko groaned.

"You don't have to specify that she's gay. You're not . . . you're not really supposed to do that."

"Natsuki-senpai does it all the time."

"Yeah, but that's different from you saying it." Hazuki tugged at her scarf, knitting her eyebrows.

"Hmm . . . I don't get it."

"The point is that the president doesn't care for anyone outside of her little circle, and everyone else can just _burn_ for all she cares." Reina's jaw clenched, a bead of sweat dripping down her cheek.

"Now, now, maybe we could talk about something else?" Midori offered. "Something that isn't quite so . . . sad?" Reina lifted her head with her eyes cast downwards. Kumiko thought she looked like a queen ready to declare war.

"It won't change the fact that she's starting to drag us all down with her."

* * *

"You're worried about Nakagawa-senpai." Reina said it more like a statement than anything - an _"aren't you?"_ would have been greatly appreciated, Kumiko thought, but instead Reina simply propped up her trumpet case next to her and leaned forward.

"Of course I am. She's my friend, this is her first and last year playing on the team with everyone, and the whole vice president thing is really getting to her."

"You say that, but there's more to it."

"You keep trying to dig deeper into this stuff, Reina, but I don't really know what else there is to say." Kumiko knew, of course, that there _was_ more, but every time she tried to think about it, it felt like a stone being wrenched from where it had rested for years and years. _What business does she have asking me about this stuff, anyway? She won't even talk to me about anything that's ever bothering her._

"There's the president to consider. She doesn't act scary during practice, like Katou-san says, she just . . . watches. She plays the parts in sectionals right alongside everyone else. You can hardly tell who the section leader even is."

"Isn't that a good thing? I mean, I don't know her that well, maybe that's how she really is." Reina tapped her foot on the metal floor of the train impatiently. The sound echoed rather ominously.

"I don't know if anyone knows how anyone 'really is.'"

"Eh?"

"People are weird, Kumiko. They're always trying to be the best version of themselves for others, and that usually ends up taking on different shapes for different people. I don't talk to you like I talk to Taki-sensei, or the president, or Katou-san." Reina paused, flicking away a fuzzball that clung to her skirt. "That's why you're so strange."

"Reina, I know that you're trying to be mysterious and all that, but I really don't get what you're saying."

"Even now, even after over a year, I still haven't done it. It's like it's just . . . clinging to you, now. I can't see what's behind it anymore."

"The good-girl skin, right?" Reina had stopped talking already, but Kumiko could see her quiet down anyway, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I'm always going to be there to catch you when you fall, you know." Kumiko felt the strange compulsion to give Reina a hug.

"I'd do the same thing for you, Reina."

"You'd probably be thrown back by how fast I was falling," Reina laughed. "I'd hit you like a bullet."

"I don't doubt that." Kumiko's mind was already filled with Reina crashing into her, and she thought that perhaps being driven into the ground with Reina in her arms wasn't such a terrible way to go. The train stopped, jolting her from the slightly morbid daydreams.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Reina stepped off, already heading in the direction the two girls always walked in together. Kumiko didn't follow her.

* * *

Kumiko had just barely gotten inside when her phone beeped from the corner of her bag.

 **Reina: I wanted to try running home.**

 **Reina: I've heard that it's a way to gain stamina.**

 **Reina: I didn't realize until about halfway through that I didn't actually tell you that before.**

 **Reina: Whoops.**

Somehow, the mental image of Reina saying "whoops" in her deadpan voice was enough to make Kumiko burst out laughing.

 **Kumiko: i'm glad that it wasn't anything i did**

 **Kumiko: lol**

 **Kumiko: oh my god i just said lol**

 **Kumiko: please do me a favor and never speak of this to anyone**

 **Reina: I'll try to keep that in mind when I talk about my personal text conversations with other people.**

 **Kumiko: anyway, i can't believe we're only a week away from the competition!**

 **Kumiko: where'd the time go?**

 **Reina: I can't believe it either.**

 **Reina: Taki-sensei's been working hard, too.**

 **Reina: I think he's glad that everyone knows what he's expecting, now, instead of being doubted.**

 **Kumiko: we didn't doubt him last year**

 **Reina: Really?**

 **Reina: I think I can recall a certain someone and her trombone friend talking about how much he overworked you.**

 **Reina: It sounded like doubt to me.**

 **Kumiko: reina, that was more than a year ago**

 **Reina: It still happened.**

 **Kumiko: i can't see you but i get the feeling you're looking really smug right now**

 **Reina: Perhaps.**

Kumiko set the now-warm phone down on her bed. She hadn't gotten any gifts from her caretaker since the corsages (hers currently sat next to a windowsill cactus) and she'd started to wonder why she felt such an odd premonition in the air. She was reminded of Midori's teakettle metaphor, of something about to boil over, of the calm before the storm. Before she could even finish her thought, she'd picked her phone back up and dialed Natsuki's number.

 _beep-beep-beep_

"Hey, Natsuki?"

 _"Kumiko? I was about to go to sleep."_ Kumiko glanced at her clock, blinking 7:30.

"Uh, anyway, I just wanted to make sure that you were . . . erm . . ."

 _"Yeah?"_

" . . . okay?" Kumiko finished lamely. "Running the club sounds like a lot of work." She could hear grainy laughter on the other end of the line.

 _"You don't have to do this, y'know. Always checking up on people. It's gonna get you in trouble someday."_ Kumiko thought of her middle school euphonium, swept to the floor, of blame and cold words and a colder classroom. She didn't even notice the tears that started running down her face until one fell on her bedsheets. _"Kumiko? Are you still there?"_

"Y-yeah, I'm still here." Kumiko curled herself into a ball. The bed didn't feel quite as welcoming as it usually did, somehow.

 _"Well, don't let my crap screw with your own problems. I'm more than capable of handling it on my own, so just focus on living your life and figuring things out. That's what high school's all about, after all."_ The phone crackled. _"Crap, I think it's breaking up. The connection in my room_ sucks, _I dunno if I've ever told ya that. Bye!"_ Kumiko heard a _click_ and gripped her phone tightly in her hands as if it were something precious. She held it like that until she fell asleep, until her hands cramped up and the phone fell somewhere beneath her bed while she dreamed of things she only wanted to forget.

* * *

"We have five days until the competition," Taki calmly said, looking to his right and to his left and back again. Momo pressed herself back. Natsuki inhaled a mug of coffee that she'd somehow snuck into the room. "You've all shown excellent improvement these past few weeks, I hope you're all very proud of yourselves." There was a quiet, excited sort of murmuring between the students, congratulations and high-fives and pats on the back aplenty. Hazuki silently pumped her fist. "I expect the same sort of readiness at the competition, and I'm sure you'll all do well. Yoshikawa-san, I'm assuming you'd like to do the chant?" Yuuko looked up.

"Oh, right. Yeah. _Kitauji, fighto!'"_

 _"Yeah!"_ the band cheered. Kumiko saw Yuuko sink back into her chair with an expression that could only be described as pure exhaustion. Even her ribbon seemed to droop.

* * *

"Hey, Kumiko, I'm gonna help Gotou and Riko and Midori put away some of the instruments, go on ahead without me." Hazuki picked up her tuba, and Kumiko noticed muscles bulging under the short sleeves of her uniform.

"Have you been working out?" Hazuki flexed in response.

"I've gotta be able to carry Tubacabra around everywhere next year! Taki-sensei won't keep us out of SunFes two years in a row, will he? I doubt it." Kumiko drew a sharp breath, remembering what Reina had said - months ago, now, but still taunting the edges of her thoughts. Hazuki didn't seem to notice. "Since I'll be the oldest tuba, it'd fall to me to play it in the parade."

"That's . . . actually really smart, Hazuki." Hazuki beamed proudly.

"Okay, okay, enough chatting, go and meet up with Kousaka-san!"

"That's what this was about, then?"

"I'm not gonna let you leave this opportunity behind, Kumiko!" Hazuki got right in Kumiko's face, still holding her tuba. "You and Kousaka-san have something really, _really_ special, the sort of thing most people can't even _dream_ about! What kind of friend would I be to let that just pass under my nose?"

"It's not that, it's just that-"

"You're scared?"

"-she's the instrument manager. Taki-sensei said she had to take inventory tonight." Hazuki blinked.

"Oh."

"It's fine. I'll just head home on my own, it might be, uh, nice to have some time to think or something."

"Okay!" Hazuki mock-saluted her before sauntering down the hall, humming as she did so. Kumiko started in the direction of the exit when someone barreled out of one of the classrooms, running at such a speed that they rammed into the wall and slumped to the floor.

"Hey, are you-" Kumiko realized who it was a second too late. "Yuuko-senpai?"

"Oumae." Yuuko rubbed her head, shakily rising to her feet. Kumiko offered her a hand, and Yuuko swatted it away.

"So, the competition's in less than a week."

"So I've been told," Yuuko replied dryly.

"Taki-sensei's been working everyone really hard, but I think it's paying off. I mean, the band sounds great!" Yuuko's face betrayed no emotion, no response. "You've been a good leader, too. You've, uh, you've taken the lead more than Haruka-senpai ever really did. I mean, she was still amazing, but-"

"Quit rambling." Kumiko flinched.

"I think I'll just go-"

"Oumae, what do you think of the vice president?"

 _Why does everyone keep asking me about this stuff?_ "She's my friend." Yuuko clicked her tongue.

"Yeah, I've noticed."

"She's pretty calm about everything, but she really cares about the band and she wants the best for everyone. I know you don't like her, but-"

"Who said I didn't like her?" Kumiko started to walk away, unsure of how to answer.

"I really have to get going if I want to take the train, and-"

"Oumae." Yuuko put a hand on Kumiko's shoulder. "Tell the vice president she's making a mistake."

"Is this about the whole flute-oboe switch?" Yuuko's hand felt heavy, and Kumiko could feel her fingers digging into the fabric of her uniform. She waited a moment before she said anything.

"Just get her back. Figure it out." Kumiko nodded.

"I'll try."

* * *

Kumiko realized, fairly early on in her lonely walk to the train home, that she had no real way of contacting Mizore. She wasn't a part of the competition team anymore, her number wasn't in Kumiko's phone, and asking Natsuki would defeat the purpose entirely.

"I don't get it," she muttered to herself. The weather had gotten warm in the past month, but a light breeze had still forced its way through the humidity and tousled Kumiko's clothes. "It's not my business. With Reina, back at the auditions last year, I had a reason to do _something."_ Kumiko looked up at the clouds floating over the moon. "What's the point of all this?" She sat down on a bench nearby, pulling her knees to her chest and letting the wind caress her cheek.

"Oumae-senpai?" Kumiko nearly jumped. Momo stood next to the bench, rocking back and forth on her feet. "What're you doing here? I thought you lived on the other side of town."

"What? I- oh." It occurred to Kumiko at that very moment that she was lost.

"Anyway, I still can't believe that the competition's in less than a week." Momo sat down on the bench and set down her euphonium, snug in its soft case. "I've been practicing really hard so that I can make _everyone_ proud." She said _everyone_ like she was trying to convince herself of it.

"Yeah, I get that." Kumiko watched a streetlight flicker to life as the sun went down, soon followed by the rest of them. "It's not going be easy, y'know." Momo adjusted her round glasses, looking down at the ground, and Kumiko couldn't help but feel that she'd said something wrong. "Still, we're in a really great place right now. I think we're going to make it- I _want_ to, at least. I want us to get to the Nationals and win gold there, too." Kumiko laughed to herself. "I never would've been able to even think about saying something like that two years ago."

"You really think we'll get to Nationals?" Kumiko could've cackled at the irony of the statement, the sudden way she felt herself thrown into Reina's shoes two years prior.

"Yeah." Momo smiled. "I really do."

* * *

Kumiko spent the (slightly longer than usual) train ride thinking about her conversation with Momo, thinking about Mizore and Yuuko and Natsuki and all the ways they seemed to connect, like one big red-threaded web.

 _I'm not the same as I was last year, am I?_ she thought to herself. _I'm not sure what it is, but something's different._

The stars had already come out by the time she got home.

* * *

Kumiko woke up to chimes ringing and her bed vibrating. Fumbling for her phone in the mussed sheets, she found it after a few minutes of searching.

 **Reina: I heard that you went home alone last night.**

 **Reina: So, naturally, I realized that I actually had a reason to worry about dangers to you.**

Kumiko didn't ask when she _hadn't_ actually worried about dangers.

 **Reina: Katou-san and Kawashima-san joined me on my way back after we had finished putting everything away.**

 **Reina: They seemed disappointed.**

Kumiko gulped.

 **Kumiko: they've sorta been playing this little matchmaking game with us**

 **Kumiko: it's dumb and ridiculous, i know**

Reina didn't respond for a moment, and Kumiko tried to quiet the little hopeful bud that seemed to bloom in her chest.

 **Kumiko: unless you don't think it's dumb**

 _Perfect._

 **Reina: The first-year euph player asked me for a case to take her euphonium home in.**

Kumiko tried to quiet the now-withering bud that seemed to constrict her very heart.

 **Reina: Momoko, right?**

 **Kumiko: yeah**

 **Kumiko: i dunno if i've ever heard anyone other than taki-sensei call her that, though**

 **Reina: One of her friends was in the trumpet section.**

 **Kumiko: was?**

 **Reina: She quit after the first week.**

 **Reina: I haven't seen her since, obviously.**

 **Kumiko: momo's nice**

 **Kumiko: she's really determined to get better, even though she's already great**

 **Kumiko: and nothing seems to wear her down**

 **Kumiko: i can't really say the same thing for the third-years**

 _I can't do anything about them._

 **Kumiko: they're stressed out and tense and it's just**

 **Kumiko: idk**

 **Reina: Troubling?**

 **Kumiko: yeah**

She flicked on a light switch, getting her uniform from where it hung on a peg on her closet.

 **Kumiko: troubling**

* * *

Kumiko strolled through the day with relative ease, trying not to let the thoughts of Yuuko and Natsuki gnaw away at her.

"Four days," Hazuki whispered, shivering as she walked down the hall a few steps ahead of Kumiko and Midori on her way to practice. It wasn't cold in the slightest.

"You'll be fine if you keep a calm head about it," Reina said, popping up next to her like some sort of ghost. Hazuki jumped.

"K-Kousaka-san!" she yelped. Reina's bag was slung over her shoulder, her trumpet case in one hand and a mug of tea in the other.

"I've been doing fine, at least," she said. Kumiko didn't believe her. She took a sip of the tea before continuing. "If you just clear your head and don't think about anything that you absolutely don't need to, the stress will go away."

"It's that easy?" Hazuki asked in bewilderment.

"No." Reina walked ahead and reached the band room before Hazuki could ask anything else, but Kumiko didn't miss the way her hand trembled on the door.

* * *

Kumiko had always found it freeing to play in an ensemble - everything woven together, sixty instruments joining to perform a single song. It was like flying, almost, for how light she felt, for how at peace she felt. _Eclipse_ faded out, the band set down their instruments, and Taki slowly clapped.

"It bears repeating that you're all doing quite well," he said. "Still, there are certain things we should try to iron out in this final stretch. Trombones, please try to keep in tempo, a few of you missed some beats. Percussion, play with a bit more emotion to it. Flutes, you seem disconnected from the rest of the band." Nozomi cringed.

"Geez, I wonder why," Yuuko growled under her breath. Natsuki gritted her teeth.

"Clarinet, I might've heard a squeak . . ." Kumiko let herself tune out of Taki's usual nitpicking, watching Yuuko and watching Natsuki and waiting for it all to boil over and burst.

* * *

"You know, it might all be over on Saturday." Reina leaned on the train's window, forehead pressed against the cold glass, and Kumiko simply sat beside her.

"Eh?"

"If we don't make it past the Kyoto competition, I mean. There won't be much left for the band to do."

"'Did you really think we could make it to Nationals?'" Kumiko said in a squeaky imitation of her own voice. "You hated that. It took me a while to understand why, but I do now." Kumiko reached for Reina's hand, and she took it delicately, as if it could fall apart if she moved too quickly. "We'll make it to Nationals, Reina." Reina squeezed her hand, her eyes still focused on the countryside and cityscape out the window.

"I hope we do."

* * *

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Did any packages show up?"

"Oh, you have that thing with the gifts, right? No, there haven't been any." Kumiko tried to hide the disappointment in her expression and ducked into her room. The cactus sat on her table, somewhat ominous in the evening light.

 _"You,"_ she muttered. The cactus, as usual, simply sat there. "I don't get it." She slumped down on the carpet, knowing full well that it would leave a mark on her legs. "I don't get it, I don't know what Reina wants or why Natsuki and Yuuko keep expecting me to figure everything out for them, I don't know why there's all this fear about Nationals." She tried to stop her eyes from watering. "I don't get it."

"Kumiko? Are you alright?" Kumiko looked up to see her concerned mother standing in the doorframe. She wiped her face with her sleeve before turning around.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. It's just, uh, stress, y'know? The first big competition's on Saturday, so everyone's on edge." She wasn't technically lying. "I'm going to do some homework now, I can microwave dinner for myself a little bit later, if that's okay?"

"It'll be in the fridge." Kumiko heard the door creak shut, and she was once again left to sit with the cactus. She flopped down on her face as soon as she knew she was alone.

* * *

Reina waited at the train station the following day, smiling warmly when Kumiko ran through the early-morning fog to greet her.

"Three days," she said, as easily as one would say hello.

"Three days," Kumiko echoed. "These past few months have been pretty weird, haven't they? I guess it'll all come to a head on Saturday."

"Exactly." The train wailed into the station, and the two girls stepped on. "It's all been building up to this." Reina sat down in the first open seat she saw, and Kumiko followed suit. "If we win gold, I'm going to buy a new trumpet case. This one's starting to wear out. It'd be a nice little celebration gift for myself."

"If we get gold, I'm going to invite the whole brass section over to my house for dinner." Kumiko smiled warmly at the thought. "I'd invite you, too, and maybe Mizore-senpai and Nozomi-senpai."

"Don't you live in an apartment? It might get a bit crowded." Kumiko shrugged.

"Eh, ten people's not that much."

"You're including yourself?" Kumiko looked at Reina in confusion.

"No, then it'd be eleven. There's me, you, Hazuki, Midori, Natsuki, Asu- oh." Reina blinked quickly, staring straight ahead. "I still forget that she's not here anymore sometimes." Kumiko tried to ignore the feeling that seemed to twinge in her gut when she said that.

"Of course."

"I'll meet you in the classroom if you get the key. I think that one of the sports clubs was using it for a meeting, and we both know that they didn't clean up after themselves."

"You don't want to see Taki-sensei?" Kumiko teased. Reina swatted her on the arm.

"I can't let anything distract me from the competition," she muttered, as if in a daze. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Yep, got it." Kumiko quieted the uneasiness that rested in her stomach. There was something unnerving about walking down the hallways of the school alone nowadays. She'd hardly walked up the first step in the stairwell before a familiar voice rang in her ear.

"I don't know what you're expecting. I don't know why ya think it's all going to fix itself."

"Sure, sure, play the 'cold and distant' card like nothing matters to you." Natsuki and Yuuko were talking in near-whispers, but Kumiko could hear them all the same. Someone stomped above her. "We know that's not true! Quit pretending, geez!"

"You're one to talk." Kumiko started to ease her way up the stairs. "Don't act like I haven't seen past that persona you're always putting on, bratty trumpet."

"Lazy euph." She could see the doorway, now. "Maybe if you'd been a better senpai, that kid would've stepped down and we wouldn't owe the school this much money."

"Maybe if you'd been a better _friend,_ Mizore wouldn't have." Taki's office was just out of reach.

"Oh, you're acting like that's _my_ fault?" Kumiko was grateful for the school's dim lighting, pressing herself up against a wall like an old-timey spy. "I didn't tell her to do that! I didn't throw the auditions or _whatever_ it is that you're accusing me of, I just wanted to . . . to . . ." Kumiko tried to creep past a classroom, and Tuba-kun caught on the doorknob. Natsuki stiffened.

"Who's there?" Kumiko ran down the hallway before Yuuko could even be bothered to turn around, ducking into Taki's office. He looked up at her panting, trembling figure with an odd sort of fatherly concern in his face, and Kumiko crumpled to the floor.

"Oumae-san?" he said. "Is everything alright?" Kumiko nodded just a bit too quickly.

"Y-yeah," she breathed. "I'm fine."

If she'd stayed in that hallway just a few moments longer, she might've been able to see the band's two leaders on the brink of tears.

* * *

Kumiko tried her hardest to focus on playing the notes right when she reached Reina and the classroom, but she could only think of Natsuki and Yuuko at each other's throats, their argument seeming to change every time she saw them.

"Is something bothering you?" Reina asked, rather bluntly, after their second performance of the day. "You don't seem quite as invested as you usually are." Kumiko dismissed her claims with a wave of her hand.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she insisted. "Really, nothing's wrong."

"You're a great liar." Reina rested her trumpet on her lap. "If there's something bothering you, it wouldn't kill you to bring it up."

"What about all the things you said about 'only focusing on the important stuff?'"

"I shove things down, Kumiko. It's what I do. I have to become special, and I can't let anything get in the way of that. You don't have that obligation."

"Was that an insult?"

"Maybe." Reina paused, staring Kumiko down. "Not really, no. All I'm saying is that this-" she gestured to herself, at this point "-might not work particularly well for you."

"Right." For a moment, Kumiko was tempted to tell Reina everything - how badly she missed Asuka, how worried she was about Natsuki and Yuuko, how dearly she wanted to hold Reina herself again and kiss her passionately like they did in the movies - but she stopped herself just in time. "Well, uh, you don't have to worry about me anyway. Nothing's wrong, I'm just a little bit stressed." Reina held out her thermos.

"It's a bit lukewarm now, but it might still help you calm down."

"Oh. Uh, t-thanks?" Kumiko carefully took the warm thermos in her hands, taking a sip of the tea (or perhaps coffee, she couldn't really tell) and quickly determining that it tasted disgusting.

She pretended not to realize that she had just indirectly kissed the girl of her dreams.

* * *

"We're so close," Hazuki whispered as the homeroom teacher droned on.

"It's almost time!" Midori squealed excitedly during lunch.

"Taki-sensei's gonna be expecting a lot of us today," Natsuki grimly muttered when Kumiko met her at the door to the music room, her shoulders hunched and her face a pallid white. "We're getting so close, everyone's on edge about it."

"Is it worse with the section leaders?" Natsuki scoffed.

"Way worse. We're expected to _carry the weight of the band_ or whatever, it's kinda terrible. I still don't get why Asuka-senpai didn't leave Gotou or Riko in charge. Some kind of euph thing, I guess."

"Maybe." Kumiko noticed Natsuki tapping her foot on the floor as she leaned against the door. "You're good, y'know. At playing the euphonium, at being a leader, we're just in a weird place right now." Natsuki's expression brightened for a moment.

"You're not just saying that, are ya?"

"Of course I'm n-"

"Oumae-san, Nakagawa-san, I wasn't expecting to see you two here so early." Taki approached the door with the keys jangling in his hand. "You can help set up."

* * *

Practice went by without a problem, and Kumiko once again relished that feeling of being in an ensemble.

 _I'll be doing this in front of a huge crowd on Saturday,_ she thought. _I guess it isn't too different, just more stressful._ Natsuki was the first one to stand up when Taki dismissed the band. _Nobody wants to let anyone else down._

* * *

It was far windier that evening. Reina hugged herself as she hurried down the sidewalk, shivering as she did so.

"It's mid-June, this weather is ridiculous," she chattered. "Isn't it, Kumiko?" Kumiko spit a curl out of her mouth before answering.

"I guess?" In truth, it wasn't very cold at all. "I think it's kinda nice, to be honest. It's refreshing."

"Right, I forgot that you preferred the wintertime."

"I don't know how anyone _couldn't,_ really. I mean, there's snow, and that nice crisp winter air, and sledding."

"There's also chapped hands, pneumonia, and godawful Christmas songs playing on the radio every day."

"What's so great about summer, then?" Kumiko challenged.

"I don't like summer much, either." Reina's scarf threatened to fly off, and she held it to her chest with her free hand. "I've always preferred spring."

"Why?" A particularly strong gust of wind blew through the street, and both girls shivered. Scraps of garbage - shreds of paper, half-torn bags, bottle wrappers - drifted past them, like some kind of urban cherry blossoms.

"New beginnings."

* * *

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?" Reina shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she stood at the intersection that would lead her home.

"Yeah. Hey, do you think you could fill me in for bringing home my euph tomorrow? I figured it wouldn't hurt to get a little bit of extra practice in. I would've asked today, but I kinda . . . forgot."

"Euphonium, soft case, Kumiko Oumae," Reina said, in what was probably an imitation of a robot. Kumiko stared at her for a moment before they both burst into laughter.

"Bye, Reina."

"Goodbye, Kumiko." Reina gave her hand a squeeze before walking off.

* * *

 _Two days._

That was Kumiko's first thought the following morning, the only thought that clung to her like a stubborn burr as she brushed her teeth and got dressed and headed out the door. Reina was waiting at the train station, her trumpet lifted to her lips as if she was just about to play it.

"Y'know, they probably wouldn't mind it if you practiced on the train," Kumiko said, pointing to the trumpet. "We're usually the only people in there, anyway." Reina nodded, taking Kumiko's hand and dragging her into the train without another word. It started a few minutes later.

"I've always wondered what it would be like to perform in a bar or a restaurant or something like that." The train screamed to life, rolling out of the station.

"We've performed in competitions before, that's pretty similar, right?"

"Well, sure, it's playing in front of people, but most of them are there solely to judge us. It might be . . . freeing, in a sense, to play in front of a crowd that couldn't care less about whether or not we were good, a crowd that wasn't scrutinizing every last mistake we made."

"You've got a lot on your mind, huh?"

"Taki-sensei told me that I needed to think about my future more. I know that I'm going to go to a music college, graduate and probably move back here, but what after that? How do I become special after that?"

"You're special to me," Kumiko murmured, leaning her head against Reina's shoulder in an act of bravery that only a sleep-deprived teenager with forty-eight hours left until a possibly life-changing competition could do.

"You're terrible," Reina scoffed. "Still, I wonder."

"You could join a traveling orchestra. See the world, come back to visit Kyoto sometimes, meet exciting people. I'm sure they'd accept you, you're amazing."

"It would be a bit stuffy for me, I think. All those old men in suits, looking down at me like hawks to their prey." Reina shivered. "Maybe I'd do something a bit more humble to start."

"Nothing you've _ever_ done is humble, Reina." Reina let out a satisfied hum.

"You might have a point there." Kumiko caught sight of the tricycle again. A flock of sparrows nearly covered it, now, pecking at its cracked plastic. "What about you? What do you want to do with your life?" Reina held Eupho-kun between her thumb and her pointer finger.

"I don't know, Reina. Really, I just hope we win gold in the Kyoto competition." Reina looked a bit disappointed for a moment before she straightened her back.

"You said something about practicing on the train, didn't you? We should give this empty car a reason to listen."

* * *

Hazuki was practically vibrating out of her seat when Kumiko reached the classroom.

"Can you believe it, Kumiko? Two days! Two days, and they'll all hear Kitauji High School's sound!"

"She's been like this all morning," Midori whispered.

"Y-yeah, I'm pretty excited, too." _Excited_ wasn't exactly the word she'd have used - _terrified_ fit the bill much better - but she couldn't bear to squash Hazuki's chipper demeanor.

"Hey, I don't really wanna change the subject, but did anything else happen with that weird gift-giving person?" Hazuki leaned over on the desk to stare Kumiko down. She wondered how Hazuki hadn't flipped over and fallen on her face at this point. "You're not answering."

"Maybe it _is_ a secret admirer!" Midori squealed. "Why else would you be so bashful about it?"

"I haven't gotten any packages since the festival. They probably forgot about me or something."

" _Or_ they're planning something really big!" Hazuki argued. "Keep your head up, Kumiko! You've got to make sure your glass is always half-full, or else it'll empty completely and you'll just be an empty gay glass!"

"I don't think that's how the saying goes, Hazuki," Midori said. Hazuki ignored her.

"Well, you've just gotta keep that . . . neutral attitude for two more days, and we'll be good!" Hazuki gave a thumbs-up before settling back into her seat. The teacher walked in hardly a second later.

* * *

Kumiko could hear her own footsteps echoing as she headed to the music room. Yuuko was waiting at the door, this time. She looked like a ribbon-clad zombie.

"Is everything okay?" Kumiko asked. Yuuko glared at her.

"It's fine, Oumae." She sniffed, as if Kumiko's very presence disgusted her. "It's just not a walk in the park to run the entire band on your own."

"I know that, b-but you have Natsuki and the rest of the section leaders and Taki-sensei, too." Kumiko took on the calming voice of a mother, the kind that always made her feel just a little bit better when she cried. "You don't have to do this alone, y'know." Yuuko barked out a laugh.

"You're adorable, Oumae," she snorted. "You don't know anything, you know that?"

"I know enough."

"You know everything about me? Am I supposed to believe that?" Kumiko could see Reina's figure approaching, traveling down the hallway like an angel sent to rescue her from this awkward situation.

"I s-saw you," Kumiko mumbled. "That day with Mizore-senpai, I was there too." Yuuko tensed up, clenching her fist, gritting her teeth, refusing to answer. Reina held up the keys, saying something about Taki being a bit late today. It sounded like she was underwater.

"Get in the room, both of you," Yuuko growled. "We can't just stand around here all day."

* * *

"You've all been doing quite well," Taki said at the end of practice, surveying the room for any response, but everyone was too exhausted to say even a word. "As you know, tomorrow is the last day before the Kyoto competition, which means that it's also our last day to practice. I believe in you all, but don't let that make you lazy. We still have one more practice, I'm expecting you to continue keeping yourselves in shape and to give it your all on Saturday."

' _"Kitauji, fighto!"_ Reina pumped her fist in the air, earning her several looks from the other band members. "I, erm, figured that the president might be a bit too tired for that, so I-"

"There's no reason to apologize, Kousaka-san," Taki said, the corners of his lips curling into a smile. Kumiko couldn't bear to look at Reina for her response.

* * *

Kumiko's phone beeped in her bag as the train rolled along, and she curiously took it out.

"Who's that?" Reina asked, pushing Kumiko's euphonium aside to see.

"Natsuki."

 **Natsuki: tomorrow's the last practice, huh?**

 **Natsuki: seems like just yesterday that we'd started the year**

 **Kumiko: well i mean it's not the /last/ practice**

 **Kumiko: just the last one before the kyoto competition**

 **Natsuki: i guess that's one way of looking at it, yeah**

 **Natsuki: see ya, kumiko**

"What did she want?" Kumiko put the phone back in her bag, holding her knees to herself.

"I don't really know."

* * *

Kumiko knew, logically, that there was no reason for a package to show up on her doorstep, but she felt disappointment bubble in her chest nonetheless.

"Maybe you should write a letter to the magazine," her mother suggested when she saw the mail devoid of mysterious boxes. "This seems like a weird pattern." Kumiko could practically imagine a lightbulb going off over her head.

"Y-yeah, that's a great idea, Mom!" She had already flung herself onto her bed and pulled out a pad of notebook paper before she even had time to think.

 _Dear caretaker,_ she began.

 _I know that this letter isn't going to reach you. I know you're just some random person who probably didn't even mean to send these things to me - I'll bet that it was just a coincidence-filled mistake, but I'm still thankful. Things have been weird this year, and it's nice to have a weird thing be . . . good, y'know? So, thanks for that, I guess._

Kumiko tapped a mechanical pencil against her cheek, trying to think of what to say next.

 _Which brings me to my next point - things are really,_ really _weird right now. Everyone's really tense because of the competition on Saturday, my best friend who I_ might _have feelings for is sending me mixed messages, and I can't shake this feeling that something's going to_ happen _soon. Have you ever had that feeling? It's scary._

She started to fold up the letter when one more thought came to mind.

 _Anyway, this was just a glorified thank-you note that you're never going to get. I miss you, even though I've never met you. I hope we meet someday._

 _~someone who really likes your packages_

A branch flung itself against the window - the wind from the previous day hadn't quite let up, and Kumiko imagined the lightbulb for the second time that hour. She folded the letter up, stuffing it in an old envelope that sat on her desk, and tossed it out the window. The letter flipped and turned with the wind, and she watched it fly until it disappeared from sight.

 _I hope this reaches you._

* * *

For how heavily premonition rested in her gut, for how nervous she felt, Kumiko thought that it might as well have been the day of the competition. She lifted her euphonium from where it lay on its side, protected in its soft case, as she started to prepare for the day.

"I wonder if anyone got that letter," she muttered to herself. "It'd be nice if they did."

"You're here early," Reina commented. Kumiko looked up from her phone, where she'd been waiting at the train station alone, watching the people pass by idly.

"I couldn't really sleep last night. Pre-pre-competition jitters, they're kinda . . . terrible."

"Trust me, I know." The train rolled in right on schedule, and Kumiko stepped on in time with Reina. "You were never this nervous last year."

"Reina, I promise it doesn't have anything to do with the other stuff."

"You mean the president and the vice president? They have their own host of problems, Kumiko, it isn't doing you any good to let it bother you."

"I know, I know, but I keep . . . running into them, overhearing them, and I don't really know what it means, but it has to mean _something,_ right? Natsuki's my _friend,_ I can't just pretend nothing's happening at all."

"That's exactly what you should do, actually." Reina folded her hands in her lap. "There'll be time for this after the competition. You can't expect it all to come to a head today, in any case. They'll still be the same people on Sunday morning."

"A lot can change in a day, Reina." Kumiko looked up at the now-torn poster for the festival, nearly illegible at this point.

"They're smart people, Kumiko."

"B-but what if I should be doing something? What then? What if I'm just sitting back and watching?"

"We can't work ourselves up over these things." Reina's voice, even and measured, reminded Kumiko of how she'd been at the beginning of the year. "We can't, Kumiko." It cracked, just for a second, and Kumiko looked at her for what must've been just for a second too long, because the tips of her ears turned red and she turned away with a scoff.

"I don't have to go to the storage room today," Kumiko weakly joked, lifting up her euphonium for emphasis. Reina smiled hesitantly, as if testing the waters, dipping a toe into the chilled swimming pool in the windy summer. The doors slid open.

"Terrible, so truly terrible," she laughed, running off the train and up the stairs of the station. Kumiko struggled to keep up with her euphonium on her back, but she couldn't stop herself from grinning like a doofus, spreading out her arms and looking up at the warm sky above her.

She wondered how long this peaceful feeling would last.

* * *

"I'll see you in practice," Reina said, leaving Kumiko at the door to her classroom. The uneasiness residing in her stomach had returned.

"The _last_ practice, if we don't work really hard."

"We're going down this path again?" Reina teased. Kumiko snorted.

"I 'do' think we can make it to Nationals this year, you know." Hazuki and Midori both sat perched on their desks like over-eager cats. "We did it before, and m-maybe this year we'll win gold."

"Maybe." Reina leaned in towards Kumiko's cheek, and Kumiko could very vividly imagine her lips brushing it gently, soft and warm and perfect, but she drew away with hardly a moment of contact. "I'll see you in practice, Kumiko." Kumiko quickly stumbled into the classroom with the look of a lovestruck fool as Hazuki and Midori stared at her blankly.

"Okay," Hazuki began. "What . . ."

". . . was _that?"_ Midori finished. "She kissed you on the cheek!"

"Maybe it was just her way of saying goodbye," Hazuki mused. Midori looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "I've heard that they do something like that in France."

"I thought you were the one who wanted them to get together!"

"I do, but I don't wanna get my- erm, Kumiko's hopes up." Hazuki pressed her face against her desk. "It's too easy to be hopeful right now." Midori solemnly nodded in agreement. Kumiko wondered who they were thinking about.

* * *

Kumiko felt like she was about to throw up when she reached the music room, her stomach doing some kind of acrobatic flip as the band streamed in. Nobody wanted to be late on the last day, after all. Natsuki was one of the last people to enter, her posture still resembling that of a hunchback, her eyes still sunken and weary. Yuuko stood at the front of the room with an equally tired expression.

"Taki-sensei asked me to make a speech before he came here," she started, running her hand along the side of the conductor's stand. "And to conduct you all through one round of the song, he said that he was going to be late today."

"Where's Momo?" Kumiko whispered as Yuuko droned on about how it had been an honor to lead the band for the past few months. The seat next to her was empty, a jarring gap in the room packed full of students.

"She has some meeting with a teacher," Natsuki whispered back. "I think she's gonna be here for at least part of practice."

". . . I couldn't have done it without the vice president either." Kumiko glanced at Natsuki, who remained frozen in her spot. "Thanks." Yuuko lifted her baton, and the room erupted into sound.

Taki took up his usual position as conductor soon afterwards, Yuuko slinking back to her spot among the trumpets. Momo was still nowhere to be found, and Kumiko simply couldn't focus on the music in front of her. Notes drifted in front of her eyes, mixing themselves up like they were dancing an awful dance, threatening to fly right off the page. She heard a painful squeak sometime around the middle, but she couldn't tell for the life of her whether or not it belonged to herself or Natsuki, and soon the thought of the squeak fell away, too, like a thread unraveling and dropping in the wind.

"That was a fine performance," Taki said, but Kumiko knew from the way he took a breath after saying it that he had endless nitpicks with the song. "Still, I heard a bit of . . . detachment, from the flute section."

"That's what happens when you only choose one flute," Natsuki muttered. "It's not Nozomi's fault." Kumiko could see Yuuko's ribbon rise and fall from where she sat, no doubt the result of the girl taking deep breaths.

"Euphonium, I don't quite know what happened, but you didn't seem focused at all throughout that entire performance." Kumiko could feel her veins turn to ice before she realized that Taki was looking directly at Natsuki. "Is everything alright?" Natsuki's breaths turned quick, nervous, and she started to shake her head when Yuuko's voice cut into the quiet of the room.

"I think that Nakagawa-san is fine," she said. Natsuki stood up, knocking over her music stand as she did so. Kumiko flinched.

"Quit putting words in my mouth," she hissed. She was shaking, now, and Yuuko whipped around from her position in the trumpets to face her. "Quit putting the blame on me, quit putting instruments in my shopping cart, quit being so _fucking_ selfish all the time!"

"Oh, _I'm_ selfish? I'm selfish? What, just because I didn't want to _scream_ to the world that we had this _thing_ going on between us? Just because I didn't want to _ruin_ myself?"

"Just because you couldn't stand the thought of anyone thinking we didn't hate each other?"

"Girls, please," Taki shakily said, reaching out his hands like he could push them apart. Nobody listened to him.

"You call me lazy, you call me a bad person, you act like I'm _nothing_ but ya can't really go on without me, and I c-can't . . . I can't . . ." Kumiko saw tears dripping down Natsuki's cheeks in big, ugly blobs - she'd always imagined that seeing people crying so angrily, so openly, would look more like it did in the movies, but Natsuki just looked _sad._

"You could've told Nozomi to step down! You could've done something _good_ for this band instead of pretending it was all okay!"

" _You_ could've owned up to this and came clean about the euphonium!"

"Yeah, euphonium this, euphonium that, we both know that doesn't have . . . anything . . . to do with it . . ." Yuuko was crying, too, while the rest of the band could only watch. "You just can't be bothered to talk about it!" Natsuki held tightly onto the back of the chair in front of her, letting her tears stain the sheets scattered beneath her.

"Hey, everyone." Momo slid open the door, holding her shiny euphonium. "Sorry I'm-" Natsuki shook as she tried to hold onto the chair. Momo's eyes widened, her euphonium clattering to the floor. Kumiko instinctively held onto herself. "Nakagawa-senpai?" Natsuki sank back into her seat.

"I'm tired of this," Natsuki muttered, starting to pick up the sheet music.

"Me too," Yuuko muttered, straightening her back. "Taki-sensei?"

"You're both dismissed." Taki's eyes had gone cloudy, his expression turned cold. "I'll see you at the competition." Natsuki stood up again and gathered her things before tapping Kumiko on the shoulder.

"Meet up with me at the fast food place later," she whispered. Kumiko nodded.

The room had gone cold.

* * *

Kumiko hurried down the hallway as soon as practice had ended, but Reina caught up with her in a few short strides.

"What happened back there?" she asked, her voice hushed. "Did you know?"

"I k-knew that something was going to happen, I just didn't think it was that."

"Do you have somewhere to be?" Kumiko slowly nodded.

"I'll see you at the competition tomorrow morning, then. I'm going to be at the school as soon as it opens. I won't blame you if you take a later train. You have some euphonium things to deal with." Reina gripped her shoulders, looking at her with compassion in her face. "I understand."

"Thanks, Reina." Kumiko only looked back for a moment before she kept on running.

* * *

A bell jingled as Kumiko entered the fast food place, filled with idle chatter and sleepy people. Natsuki sat alone at a table near the back, her tears nearly dried. She looked exhausted.

"You're here," she said, lifting her head just slightly.

"Y-yeah, I'm here." Kumiko slid into the seat opposite Natsuki's. "Are you okay?" Natsuki shrugged.

"Depends on the definition of _okay."_ Kumiko pretended to stare very intently at the menu for a moment before she tried to break the silence again.

"So, you and Yuuko, huh? How long had that been going on?"

"Since the beginning of the year. We were meeting at my house for some leadership stuff and I told her that she looked cute and one thing led to another and then we were kissing on my parents' couch."

"Oh." Kumiko nervously twiddled her thumbs for a moment as Natsuki tugged at the seams of the menu.

"These things're really fancy for a place that specializes in cheap burgers," she said. "But, yeah, we were dating. Big shocker, I know. I guess it was doomed to fail from the beginning. The whole 'opposites attract' thing can only go so far." Natsuki laughed softly. "It seems romantic on the label, y'know? Two broken people, clinging to each other, going through the same crap together. I mean, that's what you can Kousaka have, right?" Kumiko blinked.

"We're not-"

"You two pull each other up." Natsuki let out a hoarse chuckle. "You make each other better. All we do is tear ourselves down. Maybe we're just too _mean,_ two nasty women always going at each other and then making out in the bathrooms when nobody's looking."

"Natsuki, I-"

"Don't worry about it." Natsuki patted Kumiko on the shoulder, taking a shaky breath. "Some relationships just don't work out." Kumiko watched her leave with all the feelings one might get from seeing a car wreck - upsetting, oddly powerful, and utterly captivating in the strangest way possible.

* * *

True to her word, Reina reached the school before Kumiko had even dragged herself out of bed. It was a strange trip without Reina by her side, and Natsuki's outburst and confession still rattled around her head endlessly. She hadn't heard anything from her since, nor from Yuuko or Momo, but she tried her hardest to push the thoughts back. Today was the day of the competition, after all. Today was the day that it would all end if they failed, or the day it would all begin if they succeeded.

"Here we are," Kumiko whispered to herself. She'd approached the entrance to Kitauji's campus countless times before, but something felt different about it this time - more foreboding, perhaps, as if the school itself was waiting for her, as if it would gobble her up if she walked inside. _You'll be fine. We'll all be fine._

* * *

"Ah, Kumiko!" Riko was the first to greet her when she stepped inside, warmly smiling. "The percussionists need help carrying their drums, do you think you could help them with that?"

"S-sure." Reina was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Natsuki. _They're both probably just helping load stuff into the truck._ She picked up the nearest drums and started heading for the door when she caught sight of someone lifting a euphonium, spiky auburn hair just barely reaching the nape of her neck. "Uh, excuse me, nobody who isn't in the band should be here right-" The student turned around with a crooked smile. "Natsuki?!"

"Nakagawa-senpai!" Momo gasped. Kumiko jumped. "Did someone break your heart?" Natsuki snorted.

"I break my own heart, ya nerd," she said. "It was just time for a fresh start."

"Hey, euphs, hurry it up." Yuuko held her trumpet like it was briefcase, streaming past the trio with a huff. "We don't have all day."

"I guess she's not gonna do it, then."

"Do what?" Momo asked. Natsuki grinned and slowly raised her fist in the air, already on her way out the door. She seemed . . . _free,_ Kumiko thought.

 _"Kitauji, fighto!"_

The resulting _"yeah!"_ could've rattled the whole school.

* * *

 **a/n:** *banging fists on a table repeatedly* soft butch natsuki! soft butch natsuki! soft butch natsuki!


	8. Fourth Competition

**a/n:** natsuki and yuuko's arc was the driving force of the first seven chapters of this fic, so i guess you could consider this the second arc? the rest of it's going to focus more on kumiko and reina, so buckle up folks

also sorry this chapter wasn't quite as long, my inspiration kinda disappeared for a little while

* * *

"Kumiko!" Kumiko spun around in the school's parking lot, the drum still taking up most of her vision, to see the top of Reina's head getting closer. "I've been looking all over for you!" Kumiko handed the drum off to one of the bassoons.

"W-well, you found me," she mumbled.

"Are you ready?" Reina tentatively reached out a hand, wrapping it around Kumiko's.

"I think so."

* * *

The bus rolled away from the school right on schedule, and the band cheered as Kitauji's campus faded away in the early-morning fog until it was nothing more than a speck. Reina had fallen asleep in her seat, curled up in a ball. Kumiko watched the landscape outside her window, trying her best to ignore how Reina reached out to hold her arm in her sleep with drowsy whimpers.

"We're really here, huh?" Kumiko craned her neck to see Natsuki hanging over her seat, still wearing that dopey smile. She was reminded, oddly, of Asuka. "It feels a lot more . . . normal than I'd have expected. It's not too different from how I felt in Team Monaka. Just with more on the line, I guess."

"Right." Kumiko was quiet for a moment, watching Reina's chest rise and fall. "Hey, is everything okay? I mean, with-"

"Yeah." Natsuki cracked open the window beside her, letting the wind flow into the bus. "I will be, anyway."

"Nakagawa-senpai?" Reina groggily opened her eyes. Natsuki winked at her.

"In the flesh."

"You look nice." Reina settled back down and fell asleep again.

"How about you?" Kumiko played dumb, pointedly avoiding looking at Reina's sleeping figure.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she lied.

"She's reaching out to ya in her _sleep,_ Kumiko. You two are _always_ joined at the hip with these things, _always_ sitting next to each other, _always_ together. Speaking from experience, that usually means a little bit more than gal pals." Kumiko tried to silently count the horses on a farm that rolled by, but she couldn't even get to five before they disappeared. "You've got something special. Don't screw it up."

"I know, I just . . ." Kumiko trailed off and hugged herself, wishing that she hadn't given Reina her blanket. "I don't want to scare her." Natsuki raised an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I . . . we keep on having these almost-moments, where it c-can't be anything less than romantic, but then someone barges in or sends me a text and she just snaps out of it, like she'd been in a trance." Reina looked to be sleeping peacefully, still grabbing for something in the distance.

"You're afraid of hurting her." Natsuki was basically on top of the seat now, perched like a bat. Kumiko wondered how she kept herself balanced. "I get that."

"I like her, a lot, b-but I can't do anything about it because _hey!_ She's my best friend! I can't lose my best friend because of some stupid feelings!" Natsuki was quiet, looking to be deep in thought.

"All I can really say is follow your heart, which is probably the most generic, clichéd thing anyone could ever say, but it's also true. You'll know what's right, I think."

"You've got a lot more faith in me than I do, Natsuki."

"Hey, what're friends for? Anyway, good luck." Natsuki dropped back into her own seat. The truck hit a bump, and Reina jolted up.

 _"Stop!"_ she yelled, hands gripping the blanket until her knuckles had turned bone-white, eyes wide. A few of the students turned to look at her. "Sorry," she murmured as soon as she seemed to have her wits about her.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Kumiko asked. Reina held her head in her hands.

"I don't remember." She curled back up into the fetal position. "I don't know if I want to. It was scary, whatever it was. I hated it."

"We're almost at the competition hall," Kumiko blurted out. She didn't know what else she could've said.

"I guess I shouldn't fall back asleep, then."

* * *

The bus, trailed by the truck holding the larger instruments, parked outside the hall, and Kumiko was surprised by the flood of nostalgia that seemed to burst into her veins when she saw it.

 _It was only a year ago._ She helped Reina out of her seat, holding her hand _so that she wouldn't fall down,_ that was the excuse she used. Taki stepped out of the bus with his white tuxedo slightly ruffled by the breeze.

"I don't think I made a speech before we left," he said. A few students chuckled.

"He's so absent-minded," one of the trombones giggled.

"It's kinda cute," another whispered. Kumiko looked to Reina, nearly expecting her to be surrounded by a ring of fire with steam coming out of her ears like she was in a cartoon, but she simply watched Taki for his speech.

"I've never been very good with speeches, but I can at least say that I'm incredibly proud of all of you. You've come so far from where you started, and there is no doubt in my mind that you'll be the best musicians in the room. Now, I think that Team Monaka-"

"Team Monaka 2.0, actually," Gotou interjected. "Sorry, continue."

"-Team Monaka 2.0 has something for all of you." The band clapped politely as the group of seven handed out little gift-wrapped packages. Kumiko tore away the paper to see a tiny Eupho-kun plushie with her initials stitched onto it in wobbly purple embroidery. The others all had similar plushies, all corresponding with their instruments, all wearing their initials.

"Oumae-san." Mizore peered over Kumiko's shoulder at the gift. "You should look at Kousaka-san's." Reina held hers up to the light, and Kumiko caught sight of the very same shade of purple.

"I told Gotou-senpai that he should've made yours rainbow, but he said 'no, Hazuki, that's too complicated.' This is nice, though, huh?" Hazuki stood beside her, grinning widely, practically vibrating from excitement. "Midori-chan came up with the idea, and then I told Gotou-senpai, and he said 'yeah, that sounds like a nice idea,' and so here we are!" Midori hugged her plushie with honest-to-god tears in her eyes a few feet away. "They had to phone up Kaori-senpai for some pointers on embroidery, but I think it went well."

"They're great, Hazuki. Thank you."

"Aw, don't thank me! Thank Team Monaka 2.0 and their relentless determination in the pursuit of happiness!"

"Uh-"

"I'm pretty sure Mizore-senpai blew out her phone bill calling Kaori-senpai all the way in the States."

"What a valiant sacrifice!" Midori cried, still hugging her plushie.

"Now, I suppose the band's president has a few words to say." Yuuko shuffled through the crowd as Taki stepped aside, taking a deep breath.

"I'm going to say the same things I said yesterday, so bear with me for a bit, okay?" A couple of the band members laughed.

"I hope she doesn't say the _exact_ same things," Natsuki whispered. Kumiko searched her expression for any signs of regret, but she was unreadable.

"It's been a real honor to be your leader, I hope that we win gold here and at Nationals, and . . . and I really don't think I could've done it without our vice president, Natsuki Nakagawa." Whispers immediately made their way through the cluster of students as Natsuki headed to the front of the crowd.

"They had that huge fight yesterday," a horn said to a saxophone.

"I heard they were secretly dating," a clarinet eagerly chirped, not to anyone in particular. Kumiko caught sight of Reina sweating behind the rest of the trumpets.

"It wasn't much of a secret after that blowup," the first horn pointed out. "Anyone with eyes could tell after that." Natsuki and Yuuko nervously glanced at each other before clearing their throats in unison.

"We have to focus on the competition," Yuuko growled, and Kumiko wondered if she was really talking to the band at all.

"Yoshikawa-san is right." Taki straightened his back. "Now, I think it's time to head inside."

* * *

The room was filled with chatter, fear, frantic last-minute tuning of instruments as everyone refused to let their fears get the best of them.

"Are you nervous?" Reina asked. Kumiko held her euphonium tighter.

"Kinda, yeah. Is there anyone who isn't?"

"I hope not. They wouldn't care about the band if they weren't nervous right now." Reina intertwined her fingers with Kumiko's and held them close to her chest. "We'll be well on our way to becoming special if we do win gold, Kumiko."

"I think we will, Reina." Reina looked to her curiously before turning to stare straight ahead.

"You've changed," she said.

"Is that a bad thing?" Reina looked down at the carpeted floor.

"Not at all."

* * *

Backstage, it was somehow even more tense than it had been during the preparations. Kumiko saw Mizore and Nozomi tearfully hugging, making promises she couldn't hear.

"Kumiko."

"Eh?" Kumiko turned around to see Shuichi standing behind her. "Oh, uh, Shuichi. I haven't seen you around much this year, huh?"

"I've been comfortable among the trombones."

"That's good." Kumiko imagined that she must've looked like a cartoon character with her mouth sewn in a crooked line, unsure of what to say without things being awkward.

"I'm happy for you, you know. Kousaka's a lucky girl."

"Y-yeah." She didn't even bother correcting him. "Thanks."

"Just play your best out there."

"I will." Kumiko nodded fiercely and reached out a hand to fist-bump him. Shuichi did the same.

"It's such a relief to know that you two aren't dating!" Hazuki chirped, more or less out of nowhere. "Anyway, I'll be doing my best, so you'd better stay at my level!" She skipped away to hug Gotou and Riko, and soon Momo and Natsuki took up positions by Kumiko's side.

"You're both gonna do great," Natsuki said. She didn't seem nearly as tired. Momo sharply saluted her.

"I'm going to try my absolute hardest, Nakagawa-senpai!" Natsuki chuckled.

"I know ya will." Momo bounded over to her spot, and Natsuki turned her attention to Kumiko. "Hey."

"Hi."

"Thanks."

"For what?" Natsuki scratched the back of her neck.

"For being a good friend, for, y'know, _caring._ Good souls are hard to find, Kumiko. It's nice to know that there're still people who worry about what they don't need to." Kumiko wasn't quite sure what came over her as she wrapped Natsuki in a hug.

"I'm glad we'll be playing together," she murmured.

"Me too." Natsuki pushed her away. "Now, go and say good luck to your girlfriend before we go on." Kumiko flushed red and nodded, heading in Reina's direction as Natsuki watched with a warm smile.

"Reina!" she called. Reina stepped out of the circle of trumpets.

"We only have a few minutes before we're on. What is it?" Kumiko breathed in and out, unsure of what she could even say.

"G-good luck. I really hope we make it to Nationals again." Reina stood firm as Kumiko took a step forward.

"We'll win gold, when we get there. No matter what it takes." Kumiko looked into her eyes and saw nothing less than a girl who would've made the world bend to her own will if she so desired. Reina put her hand on Kumiko's shoulder and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Kumiko wondered if she should do something, if this was the right time, but Reina pulled away before she could make up her mind. "We'd best be going," she said.

"Yeah."

The curtain rose, and Taki lifted his hands when the light went on. Kumiko looked to Natsuki, who shot her a wink, then to Momo, who just stared straight ahead, and finally to Reina, who looked like she was just about to say something and had stopped herself from doing so at the very last moment.

And just like that, the song began.

* * *

Kumiko felt close to floating as she played the notes in front of her, slowly drifting from her body and watching the keen-eyed audience watching the band's every move. She tried to stop the feeling, tried to root herself and tried to stay alert with each note she played, but that lovely feeling of drifting overtook her as the ensemble around her played.

 _We're . . . good,_ she realized. Natsuki, sitting next to her as she always did, had closed her eyes and let the notes flow from her euphonium, while Momo played with all the focus of someone with their life on the line. _We're really good._ There was no trumpet solo in the song, as there had been during last year's _Crescent Moon Dance,_ but Kumiko could hear Reina all the same. _We're going to make it to Nationals._ The song rose in tempo, Taki's hands moving faster, beads of sweat illuminated by the warm, sharp lights. _We're going to win gold, we're going to make it and let everyone hear our sound._ Hazuki and Midori looked at each other as _Eclipse_ faded out. _All of us._

The auditorium burst into applause.

* * *

Everything that Kumiko had felt during the performance, all of the freedom and lightness, seemed to come crashing down as soon as she stood up from her chair to meet the clapping that resonated among the band. Taki smiled proudly, as if the students were his own children, and they might as well have been. Soon enough, the band walked off the stage and Kumiko tried to seek Reina out, but she disappeared behind a pillar and by the time she'd forced her way out of the crowd, she was gone.

"Reina!" Kumiko yelled, feeling a bit like she was a character in the climax of a bad movie. "Reina, you were great!"

"Kousaka-san ran off." Kumiko looked for the source of the voice, and her eyes rested on Hazuki, cheeks flushed from the performance. "She said she didn't wanna sit through all the waiting with everyone until the results were announced." Hazuki's fingers had started to bleed, staining her hands russet, but she didn't seem to pay it any mind. "I guess she didn't want to worry you."

"You did great, kiddo." Natsuki clapped Kumiko on the shoulder, warmly smiling, looking happier than she'd been in a long time.

"Oh, Natsuki-senpai!" Hazuki seemed to notice Natsuki's presence for the first time. "You cut your hair!" Natsuki opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly interrupted by a tiny, contrabass-playing whirlwind of excitement.

"Kumiko, Kumiko!" Midori jumped into the small gathering of the brass section, still holding her plushie. "I saw Kousaka-san outside if you want to go to her!"

"Actually, we should all be making our way to the seats," Taki said. The four girls jumped.

"H-how long have you been here?" Kumiko yelped. Taki adjusted his glasses.

"Not for very long. I'll be heading off, now." The teacher trotted away until he was nothing more than a speck in the crowd of similar-looking men, all talking in polished tones about their dearest students.

"Yeah, I'd better get going," Natsuki added, jabbing a finger in the direction of the audience seats. "See ya later, Kumiko." Kumiko waved eagerly.

"You know, even if Kousaka-san isn't here for the results, we still are!" Hazuki pointed to herself, then to Midori. "We'll be here to cheer each other on when we win gold!" Midori pinched her arm. "Hey, what was that for?!"

"You can't jinx it!" Midori hissed, death resting in her doe-like eyes. Kumiko had never seen her look so terrifying. "Don't you want to win gold, too?" Hazuki took a nervous step back.

"Well, yeah, that's why I-"

"Don't you dare hurt our chances, Hazuki-chan!" Hazuki held up her hands as if to defend herself.

"I won't, I won't!" Midori leaned closer. She had to stand on her tiptoes to meet Hazuki at eye level.

"Promise?"

"I promise!" Midori crossed her arms and snickered, flashing a grin.

 _"Good,"_ she whispered, in a tone that scared Kumiko more than a little bit. "Anyway, we really should head up there before all the seats get taken." Hazuki fearfully nodded in agreement.

"Yeah."

* * *

Kumiko could feel her heart rattling around in her chest as the chatter of the auditorium calmed down and the banner was carried.

"You've gotta be the one to tell her, you know," Hazuki whispered.

"What?"

"Kousaka-san. If we win gold. You need to tell her that." Kumiko hugged her knees to her chest, making herself as small as possible.

"Why?" she murmured.

"You two care a lot about each other, right?" Midori squeaked. "You're playing for each other, I can hear it with every note."

"I guess." Kumiko knew, of course, that it was true, but she wasn't about to succumb to their gossip. "Okay, okay, I'll tell her."

"Shh, they're unrolling it!" Kumiko looked up to the banner so quickly that she probably gave herself whiplash.

"Gold," she mumbled. "We did it."

"Now, the groups that will continue on to the Kansai competition . . ."

"Here it goes," Midori whispered. She clung to Hazuki's arm tightly enough to form red marks on the other girl's arm. Kumiko realized her eyes were watering before the announcer had even finished talking.

". . . Kitauji High School."

Kumiko didn't even try to stop the tears this time.

"Gold!" Hazuki and Midori cheered. "Kumiko, we got gold!" Kumiko stood up, wiping her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her uniform. "Kumiko?"

"I'm going t-to find Reina," she said, unable to stop the smile on her face. "It's like you said. I want to be the one to tell her." Hazuki shoved her forward.

"What're you waiting for, then?" she said. Kumiko wondered if she was just imagining the crack in her voice, but she hardly had time before the students surrounding her started to shuffle forward, and she became swept up in their walk.

"Thank you!" she called as she tried to push forward. Half of the bands were already out the door by the time she'd gotten out of her row, but that didn't stop her from running once she realized she wasn't flocked by dozens of people anymore. "Reina!" She made it into the hallway before she even caught a glimpse of the other girl. The crowd seemed to part just for the two of them. Reina looked up tearfully, violet eyes nearly shimmering in the harsh lighting of the hall.

"Did we-" Reina didn't finish her sentence before Kumiko surged forward and kissed her, closing the distance after so, so long. The crowd burst into cheers.

"That's my girl," Natsuki murmured.

"We won gold, Reina," Kumiko whispered, pulling away for a moment. Her hand was on Reina's cheek, tears mixed with her own dripping down it, but they were happy tears, and Reina soon pulled her back in. "We did it."

"We're going to make it to Nationals." Reina's mouth seemed to reach her ears, happier than Kumiko had seen her in a long time. Kumiko pressed her forehead to Reina's, feeling the softness of the moment enveloping her, feeling the dull thumping in her head from the performance fade away, until she was resting with Reina in this perfect time that nobody could ever take away from the two of them.

"Together."

"Together."

Kumiko and Reina fell asleep on the bus home, a tangle of fingers and borrowed blankets, breathing in perfect sync.

* * *

"I heard the news!" Kumiko was greeted with a hug as soon as she made it back to the apartment. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Oh, and one of those presents finally came again in the mail! I guess the magazine hadn't finished its business, or whatever it is that you said those packages came from. I put it on your bed." Kumiko blinked.

"I'll be sure to tell you everything as soon as I look at it, I'll just be a second!"

"Really, what's in those things that can make you that excited?" Kumiko was already ripping off the wrapping paper, peeling off the tape, greedily taking the letter into her hands.

 _To the one with quite a few feelings at the moment:_

 _You're probably confused, right? Afraid? Nervous? I don't know. I'm no psychic, ha!_

Kumiko narrowed her eyes. _That's . . . weirdly accurate._

 _Whatever it is you're feeling, though, it's bound to be a lot. Just, a lot of feelings, flinging themselves at you like fleas to a dog, or some equally uncomfortable metaphor. Puberty is not a kind mistress, my friend, oh, it is such a horrendous thing. Expect even more feelings in the relatively near future._

Kumiko gingerly touched her lips, still tasting like brass and rosemary, still feeling like they'd been charged with some energy she wasn't strong enough to understand. Reina had left the school without a word as soon as the bus reached its destination, and Momo had kept Kumiko behind to ask her about the details of the Kansai competition. Why she didn't ask Natsuki, Kumiko had no idea.

 _Ah, it's bound to be an ugly road, but there are good things. Perhaps you're feeling them right now. Life's a rollercoaster, and as dumb as this is going to sound, you'd best enjoy the ride! Anyway, here's a little something to be a . . . friend, of sorts. I hope it didn't die on the way here._

 _~someone who paid for express shipping so that this wouldn't shrivel up_

Kumiko unfurled the bubble wrap bursting from the box to find a prickly cactus just starting to blossom, pink flowers crumpled ever-so-slightly.

 _P.S: Talk to her! Talk to her, just please talk to her._

Kumiko froze.

 _Reina. Oh my god._

Kumiko ran for her now-dead phone, plugging it into the wall so quickly that she feared for the condition of her charger, and turned it on to see a string of messages mostly unrelated to each other.

 **Hazuki: i still cant believe it!**

 **Midori: we won!**

 **Gotou: I'm proud of you all.**

 **/**

 **Mamiko: heard the good news.**

 **Mamiko: congrats.**

 **/**

 **Natsuki: hey, we really did it**

 **Natsuki: i would've put this on the group chat but katou seems to be taking care of the team spirit there**

 **Natsuki: playing up there on that stage really was something special**

 **Natsuki: and i'm not giving up, y'know**

 **Natsuki: on being the vp i mean**

 **Natsuki: or on nationals**

 **Natsuki: we'll make it there together**

 **Natsuki: but enough about me, that was some stunt ya pulled with kousaka**

 **Natsuki: i'm glad you two are official finally**

Kumiko was about to tell her that no, they still weren't official, that she had no idea what she had been doing, when she saw one more message blinking on the too-bright screen.

 **Reina: Can we talk?**

* * *

After several minutes of deliberation, relentless pacing, anxious ramblings to the cactus, and general panic, Kumiko finally bit the bullet and dialed Reina's number, already starting to bury herself underneath the covers of her bed in shame.

 _beep-beep-beep_

 _She's gonna hate me._

 _beep-beep-beep_

 _I just made out with my best friend who's been sending me weird signals all year, I scared her off, I made a mistake, I-_

 _"Kumiko?"_

"R-Reina?"

 _"You_ did _mean to call me, right?"_ Kumiko twirled the corners of her bedsheets around her finger.

"Y-yeah, of course, you said that we needed to talk, so-"

 _"I'm glad that we made it to the Kansai competition."_

"Me too, Reina." Kumiko tapped her foot impatiently, Reina's words sounding like they were being spoken in slow motion. "Anyway, I wanted to-"

 _"We're going to have to keep on working hard_ , _you know. If we want to make it to Nationals, if we want to win gold there."_

"Yeah." Kumiko looked up at her ceiling and was reminded rather vividly of the plastic stars that had watched over her and Reina as they danced, holding each other so close, like nothing could ever touch them. "Was there, uh, anything else you wanted to talk about?" Static fizzled through the phone, silent and choking.

 _"Not really, no,"_ Reina finally said. Kumiko had to put down the phone for a moment.

"Are you sure?"

 _"Is there something 'you' wanted to talk about, Kumiko?"_ Reina's voice had that teasing lilt to it that Kumiko had grown so fond of, and yet she found herself struggling to even get out a single word in response.

"I . . . no. No, there's nothing I really wanted to talk about. Sleep well, Reina."

 _"Goodnight, Kumiko."_ The phone clicked, and Kumiko flopped back onto her bed.

"'Sleep well?' Really?" The new cactus didn't seem any less prone to judging her than the old ones. "I'm such an idiot," she moaned. "B-but she kissed me back. She kissed me back in front of all those people and it was _magical,_ so why isn't she saying anything about it?" Kumiko reached out to flick off her light switch. "I really don't get her sometimes."

* * *

Monday morning wasn't much better. The phone call had dampened the happy thoughts of winning gold and kissing Reina, and Kumiko walked to the train station with nervousness in her steps.

"You're here." Reina stood with her back straight as a board, watching the sky for something neither of them could see.

"W-well, yeah. I mean, where else would I be?" Kumiko grinned, her weak attempt at a joke not entirely lost on the girl beside her. Reina shrugged. The air felt like all the humidity of summer had solidified into some kind of wall between them.

"You could've slept in a bit more," Reina pointed out.

"I want to win at Kansai, too, just like you said. We h-have to make it to Nationals, Reina." Reina blinked owlishly, eyes wide.

"What . . . did I say?"

"What?"

"On Saturday night. After the competition, I was about ready to fall asleep, I don't remember anything I said." She spoke it all in one breath, as if stopping would mean the end for her, as if she simply _couldn't._

"Oh, uh, you didn't really say anything. Just stuff about how we should make it to Nationals, how everyone was great. That kind of thing." It wasn't a lie, not in the slightest, but Kumiko felt oddly guilty all the same. Reina furrowed her brow.

"That's a relief," she said. The two girls waited in pained silence for a few minutes, Kumiko scuffing her shoe on the pavement and Reina fiddling with her bag.

"Hey, the train's here!" Kumiko blurted out, after what could've been an eternity. Reina took her hand and stepped on, and Kumiko wondered if she was just imagining in the way it felt just a little bit more intimate than usual.

* * *

Hazuki and Midori both grinned as soon as Kumiko set foot in the classroom, taking on the appearance of some kind of gossipy demons.

"I still can't believe you did that!" Hazuki yelled, earning her several glares from the surrounding students just starting to take out their books.

"It was so romantic!" Midori sighed dreamily, tracing a heart on her desk. "You two should etch your names into a tree, so that nobody'll ever forget you!"

"Or maybe a desk like this one," Hazuki supplied. "You know, so that future students can wonder who RK and KO are, what their story is, and then someday you and Kousaka-san can come back to the school for some kinda gay honeymoon and it'll be you two! And then-"

"We're not dating." Kumiko kept her eyes on the floor, scuffed by the shoes of countless students before her. Hazuki tilted her head curiously.

"What? But you kissed-"

"I know what I did." Kumiko drew in a sharp breath, blinking quickly to hide any emotion, trying to focus on the floor. "We're not dating. I don't know what we're doing, really, but we're not dating."

"Oh." Hazuki sank back into her seat like a deflated balloon, and the teacher walked in to cut off anything else that might've been uttered between the three of them.

* * *

"So, summer break's nearly here." Yuuko stood at the conductor's stand as if she'd been doing it all her life, her yellow ribbon moving in time with her various gestures. A few of the first-years cheered. "I haven't slept since Friday, keeping things in order with Taki-sensei, planning everything up through the Kansai competition, and I'm pretty proud to say that we've booked some time at the lodge we all stayed at last year." It was the second and third-years' turn to cheer, now, while the first-years looked to each other in confusion. "We'll have permission slips ready tomorrow."

"Thank you for holding down the fort, Yoshikawa-san, but that's enough for now." The door slid open to reveal Taki in his usual neatly-pressed manner, walking to the front of the room with the air of a proud father and a businessman rolled into one. "I truly can't express how proud I am of you all." Kumiko glanced at Natsuki, who stared straight ahead. "This is only going to get harder, I should warn you that. You've all shown what you can do, and I want to see ten times that. They'll hear us at Kansai, and then at the Nationals if we work hard enough. I don't doubt that a single one of you has it in you, either."

"Yes, sir!" the band chanted. Taki took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes for a moment before looking back at the students in front of him.

"Now, we'd best run through the song a few more times."

* * *

"I don't know if I'm gonna be able to survive the next few months!" Hazuki groaned on the walk home that night, leaning on Midori for support. "It feels like I'm dying!"

"You're crushing me, Hazuki-chan," Midori whimpered.

"You'll be fine." Reina wrapped her pinky finger around Kumiko's, walking with her brand-new trumpet case swinging back and forth at her side. "I'm not saying that it's easy, obviously, but if you perform half as well as you did at the competition, I think you won't have to worry much."

"Really?"

"Really." Reina didn't look at Hazuki as she talked, nor at Kumiko, and it was more than a bit unsettling. Every bit of Kumiko itched to talk to her about Saturday - why everything happened on Saturdays, she had no idea - but she gulped back questions in the deepest parts of her throat until it sank to the very bottoms of her feet and weighed her down there.

"What's it like, then? Practicing with the whole team at that band camp?"

"From what you said, it isn't too different," Midori said. "It's just a lot of hard work! It's really nice, too, if you like the countryside. It's good for your brain, letting everything else slip away, being in a whole new place. I like it." She turned away to head in the direction of her train. "I'll see you all tomorrow!" Kumiko waved and watched her skip away.

"I like it too," Reina blurted out. Kumiko and Hazuki both looked at her.

"What?"

"The countryside. It's . . . freeing."

* * *

Summer break was soon upon the students of a certain Kitauji High School, and Kumiko had decided to celebrate by taking a long, long nap.

This nap, unfortunately, was interrupted by a certain Hazuki Katou's insistence on involving herself in Kumiko's personal affairs, namely her relationship (or lack thereof) with Reina.

 **Hazuki: kumikoooooo**

 **Hazuki: were going on the trip next week!**

 **Hazuki: fresh air and open fields and lots of sunshine**

 **Hazuki: the perfect place for a big romantic gesture!**

 **Kumiko: hazuki, it really does mean the world to me that you've been so supportive, but**

Kumiko's phone beeped with another message before she could finish her answer.

 **Natsuki: nozomi's been practicing like crazy, y'know**

 **Natsuki: she doesn't want to let the band down i guess**

 **Natsuki: or maybe she doesn't want to let mizore down**

 **Natsuki: same difference really**

 **Natsuki: in any case, those two really love each other**

 **Natsuki: it kinda makes me want to throw up**

Kumiko laughed before turning her attention back to Hazuki.

 **Kumiko: i'll figure it out on my own terms, okay?**

The new cactus sat by her window, wearing the corsage from the festival like a little skirt around its pot.

 **Kumiko: i don't want to rush this, whatever it is**

* * *

Reina kissed her again on the morning the band was slated to leave for the training camp.

It hadn't been something either of them intended, at least that was how Kumiko tried to reason with herself, but the fact still stood that the two girls had waited at the school's entrance with their hands intertwined, and Reina had turned to Kumiko and told her to wait here while she got the key to the music storage, and Kumiko had agreed, and Reina had kissed her goodbye without a single warning.

"I'll see you in a few minutes," she whispered breathily, as if she were some Hollywood seductress, more confident than she really was, hiding behind a kind of mask. Kumiko nodded. "There're probably a few people already here, in any case."

"You've got it bad, kiddo." Kumiko felt shivers run down her spine as she looked around for the source of the voice. Natsuki, as it turned out, waved to her from beneath one of the leafy trees.

"I thought you didn't like people being called 'kiddo,'" Kumiko said lamely, ambling over to where Natsuki sat. "You're, uh, not even a year older than me." Natsuki shrugged.

"Things change."

"I know." Kumiko leaned against the rough bark. "It's scary."

"Hrm?"

"Change. I c-can't just let go of things, Natsuki. Not like you did, at least, acting like everything's totally fine when it's all . . . y'know . . ." Kumiko made a gesture with her hands that she herself didn't quite understand.

"Eh, people have different ways of going through stuff. And, I mean, ya can't really compare 'bad breakup' with 'realizing you might have reciprocated feelings.' They're just not the same thing."

"I know, but she's just . . . _blah,_ she's just so _confusing!_ What does she _want,_ Natsuki? What am I supposed to _do?!"_

"I can't tell any more than you can." Natsuki plucked a leaf from a low-hanging branch and started to fold it into quarters. "I should probably leave now, though. Vice president stuff, y'know."

"Yeah," Kumiko mumbled. Natsuki got up, dusted herself off, and walked away just as Reina came back with the key.

"What did she want?" Reina asked.

"Who, Natsuki? We were, uh, just talking about . . . relationship stuff. Yeah." Reina dropped the key into Kumiko's hand with an unwavering stare.

"The band needs help with loading everything onto the bus. We're getting our fair share of workouts, between this and the competition."

"We'll have to do it again in Kansai next month."

"I know." The sky had turned gray, rustling the trees and sending Tuba-kun and Eupho-kun dangling from where they hung on Kumiko's bag. She imagined them crying out for their lives, clinging to the cloth strap with their silver chains. She was so preoccupied with this thought that she didn't notice Reina holding her hand and pressing her closer, leaning on her shoulder. Eupho-kun flew off the bag and became swept up in the wind.

"Crap, Eupho-kun!" Kumiko reached out for the keychain, dragging Reina behind her. The wind stopped as soon as it had started, and Eupho-kun fell to the ground a few feet in front of her. Kumiko crouched down to cradle the keychain like it was a baby bird fallen from its nest, pressing it to her cheek. Tying it back to her bag, she realized that a speck of dirt had clung to Eupho-kun's "chest."

"We should hurry up and join the others," Reina said.

"Y-yeah, just a second." Kumiko licked her thumb and tried to rub off the dirt, but all she succeeded in doing was embedding it deeper until a smudge stained the gleaming plastic.

* * *

"We've got everyone, right?" Yuuko stood at the front of the bus like a train conductor, surveying the students surrounding her. The first-years had packed themselves into the bus behind this one (sans Momo, who eagerly hovered by Natsuki towards the back) while the second and third-years had realized that there was enough room in a single bus for all of them.

"Yes, ma'am!" the bus said in unison. Reina blinked.

"They're treating her like she's the teacher," she whispered to Kumiko, bewildered. The bus started to growl to life.

"She's probably just trying to take charge to help him out a bit." Reina let out an unsatisfied _hrmph_ and turned away to the aisle while Kumiko started to look out the window to the familiar parking lot.

 _She'd tasted like rosemary and brass, just as Kumiko knew she would, but it was magical all the same, it had been sudden, spur-of-the-moment, but it felt as right as anything ever could. The crowd had parted just for the two of them, many of them people neither of them could recognize, and she'd spun Reina around with her feet lifted off the ground._

 _It was something magical, something so rare and perfect that she couldn't imagine anything making it better. The waiting had lasted so much longer than it had needed to, she thought, because with how gently and how powerfully Reina had kissed her back it felt just like the both of them had waited a thousand centuries for this._

"Kumiko?" She was snapped out of her thoughts by the very girl who had caused them (as well as a rather sharp prod to the side). "They called your name for attendance."

"Oh, y-yeah. Here." Yuuko clicked her tongue and wrote something on a clipboard.

"Right." Yuuko continued to squawk out name after name, soon becoming nothing more than background noise akin to the engine's rumbling. Kumiko tentatively reached for Reina's hand, and the other girl looked around at the rest of the bus before shakily taking it into her own. "That's everyone, then." Yuuko set down the clipboard and plopped down next to Taki. The bus driver - Matsumoto, as it turned out - gave a dry thumbs-up before it lurched from where it had sat, dormant, and Kumiko could only watch the school roll further and further away under the gray clouds.

* * *

 **a/n:** i can't think of anything to say here so i'll take this opportunity to say thank you to all the lovely people who've been reading this fic, it really does mean the world to me that people actually like my writing and yeah


	9. Strange Conductor

**a/n:** the party was an early idea in this fic that i had scrapped because it didn't really fit the tone of the story, but then i realized that anything can have drama if you try hard enough

* * *

The endless countryside rolled along, and Kumiko soon grew tired to watching tree after tree and field after field. Reina had closed her eyes, earbuds tucked neatly in her ears, her body perfectly still.

"We should play a game!" Hazuki chirped, gripping the leather back of Kumiko's chair. "You know, one of those games that kids usually play on buses? Singing songs, truth or dare, that kind of thing?"

"I never really liked those," Kumiko admitted. "They were too noisy, and people would always be yelling in my ear, daring me to kiss some boy I didn't know." She glanced at Reina's sleeping form. "I always said no, of course, b-but it was still annoying. I mean, it wasn't like I could _tell_ them." Hazuki looked away guiltily. "I'm still not even sure if I should've told my whole class like that _this_ year."

"Yeah, but you kissed Kousaka-san in front of all those people. You wouldn't have done that if you were scared, right?"

"Most of them were strangers. I dunno if I could've done it in front of people I actually _knew,_ and anyway, I felt like something . . . like something was pulling me towards her, and I was just following its will."

"The red string of fate!" Midori piped up, the top of her head barely reaching over the seat. "You're soulmates, that was what it was!"

"I don't think we're soulmates, Midori." Kumiko's voice shook as she spoke. "We're not like Nozomi-senpai and Mizore-senpai, in any case." The pair in question whispered sweet nothings to each other a few seats ahead, Nozomi's feet swinging back and forth eagerly.

"Sure, you're not all lovey-dovey like them, but you're still . . . lovey, I guess. Is that a word?" Midori shrugged and let out a noise that sounded like _mmhmmhmm,_ which Kumiko figured was probably a sleepy version of _I don't know._ "It looks a lot like you're dating, anyhow."

"We won't make you play any games you don't want to!" Midori squeaked. Kumiko smiled.

"Thanks."

* * *

Room assignments and schedules were handed out drolly, the rest of the students seeming just as weary as Kumiko felt, and she soon found herself in a room with Reina and Midori.

"I'm going to sleep," Kumiko announced as soon as the trio made their way to what would be their home for the next few days.

"It's not even eight yet!" Midori squeaked indignantly. "Don't you wanna get to know each other more?"

"We already know each other," Reina interjected. "I agree with Kumiko, in any case. We should sleep."

"Of course you'd agree with her," Midori huffed, in what was probably her version of a sarcastic tone.

"There's enough room in here for all three of us to comfortably space out where we sleep - I guess the rooms aren't quite as cramped because of the smaller size of the band." Everyone quieted down for a moment, as if the former third-years would burst in through the door at any moment, Asuka boisterously announcing her entrance as Haruka and Kaori nervously trailed behind her.

"Kumiko-chan, why are you crying?" Kumiko stiffened.

"Eh? Oh, I think it's just the, uh, allergies! Yeah, it's the allergies." Midori shrugged and went back to fluffing her pillows, but Reina's gaze lingered on Kumiko for a moment longer than needed.

* * *

Midori, despite her protests, was out like a light as soon as Taki called curfew, while Kumiko restlessly flopped around in her too-warm futon, sweat sticking her clothes to her skin. She couldn't see Reina's face, but for how still she was - almost like a corpse, Kumiko thought - she thought that she must've been asleep already. Eventually, Kumiko relented and dug through her bag until she found the now-battered book nestled in there. Squinting by the light of her phone, she flipped through the pages and found her spot.

"What's that?" Kumiko let out a soft _yeek!_ when she realized that Reina had turned around, completely awake.

"Oh, the book? It's something I found at a used bookstore, I think it was written in the fifties." Without missing a beat, she added, "you can borrow it once I'm done, if you want." Reina scooted closer.

"What's it about?" she murmured. Kumiko held out the book to show her.

"There's this girl who works at a department store, she's really into set design and stuff, and then she meets this mysterious woman who leaves her gloves behind on the counter, and then . . . well, that's as far as I've gotten."

"Sounds interesting." Reina ran her finger along the edges of the yellowed pages. "It feels old. You said you bought it used?"

"It's, uh, cheaper that way, and besides, the cover art's really pretty."

"You'll have to show it to me in the morning." Kumiko nodded. Reina stretched out her fingers and wrapped her pinkie around Kumiko's, keeping her eyes on the book.

"Hey, Reina?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think we'll remember this in the morning?" Reina took a deep breath out and rustled in her covers.

"I hope so." She didn't say anything else for a few seconds. "But I doubt it."

"Is this . . . okay, then?" Kumiko cupped Reina's cheek in her hand. She could see Reina's chest sharply constrict underneath her blanket. "If it's not, I can just-"

"It's fine," Reina exhaled. Kumiko felt like her very heart was threatening to burst from her body and take her blood with it.

"S-so, can we stay like this? Until morning, at least?" Reina made a _hrm_ noise under her breath.

"I suppose so."

* * *

Kumiko awoke to see Reina standing with her hands on the door at the other end of the room.

* * *

"Now, we only have a day here - the school's budget couldn't afford more than that, I'm afraid - so we should do our absolute best with that time before the mandatory off-days are upon us." Taki laughed lightly.

"So he _does_ laugh," Natsuki muttered, looking like she hadn't slept at all the previous night. "Huh." Momo rocked back and forth in her chair eagerly.

"Kawashima-senpai told me that it was super tough here," she said. The thought of anyone calling Midori _senpai_ was enough to make Kumiko snort. "I can't wait."

"You really can," Kumiko deadpanned, realizing the rather obvious fact that she was the only one out of the three euphs who had gone through this before. "It's . . . tough, even when you don't have feelings and stuff getting in the way."

"Speaking of feelings, what happened to Niiyama-sensei and Hashimoto-sensei?" Natsuki wondered. "I never really got to know 'em, but they seemed pretty cool."

"They're both busy with their own projects, Nakagawa-san," Taki calmly interjected. Natsuki flinched. "I invited them here, but they couldn't make it."

"I didn't know he could hear you," Momo whispered.

"The acoustics in this room are incredibly good, Moritomo-san." It was Momo's turn to flinch. "Now, let's begin."

* * *

"Yep, I'm definitely gonna die," Hazuki announced that night at dinner. "Taki-sensei's a great teacher, but that was too much! I don't even know if we got any breaks!"

"We had one," Midori offered. "You passed out before Taki-sensei even finished telling everyone. We had to find smelling salts to wake you up!"

"You sound way too eager about that," Hazuki deadpanned. Midori politely stepped aside.

"I'm . . . glad that we're more united as a band than we were last year, at least," Reina said, poking at her food. "I can't eat this."

"You mean because of the audition stuff and how weird it was to have someone as pretty as Niiyama-sensei around?" Natsuki asked. Kumiko remembered Reina's dead-fish-eyes this time last year with an odd pang in her chest, the green-eyed monster threatening to poke itself out from the table. "I saw her . . . twice, maybe? She was cute." Reina looked away to the side, seeming almost bashful.

"Yes."

"I'm going to take a shower," Kumiko yawned. Reina silently dropped her platter of food into the nearest garbage can. "I can't believe this is already our last day here."

"Yep," Natsuki confirmed. "The buses leave at six-thirty tomorrow morning. Madam President said they'll leave with or without everyone in 'em, but somehow I doubt that."

"We should hurry there just to be sure," Reina said before standing up herself, walking in tandem with Kumiko out of the dining hall and into the locker rooms. Kumiko covered her eyes as soon as the two made it to the lockers. "What?" Kumiko peeked out from behind her fingers.

"N-nothing!" she timidly yelped. "I just, uh, didn't want to . . . y'know . . . watch you." Reina cocked an amused eyebrow.

"You shouldn't worry about it," she said. Kumiko stayed rooted in her spot.

* * *

Kumiko finished the book that night, closing its well-worn cover and trying her best to slip it back into her bag quietly.

* * *

"Hey, hey, quiet down!" Yuuko snapped the following morning, pushing her hands down as if that would shut up the band's chatter. There was a surprising amount of it, too, for how early it was - Kumiko had half-expected to see the band stumble out of the buildings like zombies, some still in their pajamas and others clutching instant coffee in shaky hands. "We have to take attendance."

"Told ya they wouldn't leave anyone behind," Natsuki whispered. "Not like there was any doubt in the first place."

"It's still weird that Taki-sensei would've dragged us all the way out here just to come back, though," Hazuki piped up. "Isn't it? It would've been easier to just have longer practices or something." Reina and Natsuki both took on the rather sudden appearance of someone who was very, _very_ interested in the scattering of rocks near the parking lot. Kumiko recalled the turmoil that the euphonium had caused, and she wondered if the band's finances were really that bad.

"Katou, Hazuki." Hazuki shook her head as if to clear her thoughts.

"Here!" she barked.

"Kawashima, Midori."

"Here!" Midori squeaked. She had to stand up on her seat to be seen by Yuuko.

"Shouldn't the teacher be taking attendance?" Reina whispered.

"Kousaka, Reina."

"Here," she said before turning her attention back to Kumiko. "It's . . . strange." The two had ended up in a seat closer to the front, and Kumiko could see Taki squirming uncomfortably a few rows ahead as he scribbled down notes intently.

"It might just be because he's busy. I wouldn't mind having an assistant if I had to tell sixty of us what to do." Reina bristled when Yuuko sat down, as did Kumiko, but for entirely different reasons - she could still see Natsuki's slumped figure out of the corner of her eye. "W-wait, are you _jealous?"_ Reina tensed.

"Of course not!" she huffed, sounding like a great noble who'd just been offended on some grand behalf. Kumiko was surprised that she hadn't pulled a cape out of nowhere just to flick it in her face. "I don't have anything to be jealous of, what makes you even _consider_ that?"

"Your reaction," Kumiko retorted. "Y'know, we can always . . . talk, about that. About Taki-sensei."

"We can't," Reina said ruefully, starting to peer out the window. "It's nothing we can just 'talk out.' It's just . . . there. It's there and it's stupid and I can't stand it, but it doesn't change anything to bring it to light. All it does is make me think things I don't want to think about." Kumiko leaned on Reina's shoulder tentatively, unsure of what else to do. "Besides, Yoshikawa-senpai is managing in her own ways. She's qualified."

"You are too, Reina."

"I wouldn't call a year and a half of being the instrument manager _qualified to be the president,_ Kumiko. It's nothing. It's not even really a question of who's best for it, it's just the old third-years nominating the people they know for the job."

"What do you mean?" Kumiko dug her fingers into the armrest on her seat.

"You knew more about that fight before the competition than I did, but what I saw, two arguing leaders who had kept their problems behind closed doors and barely ran the club before that disrupted one of the most important practices we've had."

"Natsuki's my _friend,_ Reina, she was just-"

"I wasn't accusing her of anything. I don't blame either of them, it's nothing that concerns me, but . . ." Reina paused for a moment, lifting her head slightly. "Do you really think they're still the best-suited to the position?" The bus lurched forwards, and Kumiko was thrown back in her seat.

"Do I . . . I c-can't answer that, Reina." Kumiko was vaguely aware of how much she said Reina's name - it was a way to ground herself, to remind herself that who she was talking to. "It's like you said. It doesn't, uh, concern me." Reina looked ahead at the landscape in front of the bus. The weather had turned gray again, and debris floated and tossed in the wind by the highway.

* * *

 _We were only gone for two days, but it already feels like it's been years,_ Kumiko thought as she stepped off the bus, her suitcase bumping behind her on the cracked tar.

"I'm afraid that the school won't let us practice continuously until the Kansai competition, as much as I'd love to put in as much time before then as we can," Taki said, standing a few feet away from the cluster of students. "So, I won't see any of you for the next week. Please enjoy this short break." He walked away with his back straight and his shoes clapping against the ground.

"What're you gonna do with the break time, Kumiko?" Hazuki asked, hands folded behind her back. Midori flanked her on the other side.

"I . . . don't really know, actually. I'm just kinda looking forward to having some time to sleep."

"That's fair," Reina said groggily, rings of sleep circling her eyes. She'd fallen into dreamland hardly a minute after the bus had left, and Kumiko envied her for how easy it was to do that, to sleep without a care in the world. She seemed weary, far more so than anyone else standing in the little circle.

"Oh, well, I'm thinking about hosting a party!" Hazuki broke into Kumiko's thoughts with her usual chipper attitude. "You know, like in the movies - a bunch of crazy teens making a big mess and having the time of their lives! We'd invite the whole band-"

"Who's 'we?'"

"Myself and Midori-chan, of course!" Hazuki proudly pointed to herself and to the girl next to her. "We were talking about it on the ride back here. I said it'd be better to hold it at her house - she's _super_ rich, you know, her place is really fancy but also really cozy, somehow, but Kohaku isn't going anywhere either, and I couldn't bear to force someone so cute to see us dancing like wackos!"

"Considerate," Reina muttered dryly. Hazuki clapped her on the shoulder.

"Aw, Kousaka-san, don't be like that! I'm inviting you, too!" Reina rubbed her shoulder, keeping her eyes downturned. "Anyway," Hazuki continued, "I'm gonna host it at my house, since my parents are driving my little siblings to sleepaway camp in two days. Convenient, huh?"

"Shouldn't you be focusing on practicing?" Reina inquired, like a detective pressing her suspect for details, the final step of the interrogation, a carrot and a stick waved in the air. Her voice was measured and even, cold, and Hazuki didn't even seem to notice.

"It's like Taki-sensei said. We should enjoy our break, and what better way to do that than to goof off like the kids we are? C'mon, I'm sure it'll be great - maybe I'll even sneak in some . . . you know . . ." Hazuki lowered herself to a whisper, oddly crouching as if the birds could hear her. ". . . _alcohol._ "

"That's a really bad idea," Kumiko, Midori, and Reina said in unison.

"Why?"

"We decided to invite the whole band," Midori pointed out. "Do you _really_ want the loss of sweet little Momo's innocence on your hands?" Hazuki pondered the concept for a moment.

"I guess not," she admitted. "We're still bringing in red cups, though! Even if they just have juice or something in 'em. It's one of those things you _need_ to have at a party."

"That's fair," Kumiko said, unwilling to admit that she had no idea why red cups were important. "A-anyway, I guess we should all head home? It's pretty nice out here, I'd like to make it back before it gets dark."

"I'll go with you." Reina announced those four words like a declaration, something important, and Kumiko pretended not to notice the way her heart sped up and rattled like a jackhammer when Reina held her arm. "You two are free to join us, if you want." Hazuki waggled her eyebrows and started to step away, beckoning for Midori to join her in the crowd.

"I g-guess it's just the two of us, then," Kumiko mumbled. Reina simply nodded before walking forward, taking Kumiko along with her.

* * *

Kumiko tugged at the fabric of her uniform, sticky from the sweat that clung to it under the blazing sun.

"Why's it so _hot?"_ she moaned. Reina didn't seem bothered, but then again she didn't ever seem to be bothered by things as trivial as the weather, just pretending it didn't exist, focusing on her goals and nothing else. Her hand, still clinging to Kumiko's exposed arm, was colder than Kumiko would've expected, colder than it usually was, but it was a welcome relief from the stuffiness of the air around her.

"Katou-san seems dead-set on throwing that party," Reina commented. "Are you going?" Kumiko shrugged.

"I dunno. Parties have never really been my thing, but if it's just something kinda small with a few of the band members, it might be nice."

"I'll consider it." Reina paused for a moment, stopping in her tracks. "Won't she hold it late at night, though? I'm not supposed to take the train after dark."

"I g-guess I could ask someone to drive us. My mom, or one of the third-years."

"Or Taki-sensei," Reina said, bumping lightly into Kumiko with a playful elbow to the side. Kumiko felt an oddly warm stirring in her chest, a realization that Reina could joke about the man she'd once idolized.

"His car smells kinda funny," Kumiko said, out of habit, and she quickly clapped her hands over her mouth when Reina swiveled her head like some kind of teenaged owl to look at her, dropping her hand from where it still clung to Kumiko's arm.

"You've been in Taki-sensei's car?"

 _I really need to start choosing my words more carefully._ "Y-yeah, it was last year - right before I came down with that crappy cold, my sister and my parents were fighting and so I took a walk and Taki-sensei was buying flowers for his dead wife and then my umbrella broke so he just . . . drove me home." Kumiko took a deep gasp of air after she finished speaking, smacking her chest to stop her lungs from bursting.

"Oh." Reina had stopped walking entirely - both of them had, though Kumiko wouldn't have even noticed if it it weren't for the elderly drunk starting to stumble towards them, mumbling things under his breath that neither girl dared to think of. Reina took hold of Kumiko's hand, and the two of them ran down the cracked pavement, the sidewalk that seemed to reach out into the vast labyrinth of the city.

* * *

"Y'know, I don't think he was - _khack_ \- chasing us," Kumiko breathed, pushing open the scratched glass door to the fast food place she'd talked at with Natsuki hardly a month before. Reina followed close behind, similarly exhausted. "He was p-probably just . . . being weird."

"It's still better to be safe than sorry," Reina quipped as she sat herself down in one of the chairs close to the window.

"Yeah." Kumiko sat opposite her, fidgeting nervously. "We could've just gone to the train station. Why'd you bring us here?"

"I wanted some peace and quiet." Reina took one of the sugar packets between her fingers, twirling it around and around. Kumiko was mesmerized. "The past few weeks have been stressful for everyone - what with Kyoto, the extended practices, even everything that happened with the two leaders."

"Believe me, I know." Kumiko laughed lightly to herself. "Maybe Hazuki's party might be better for us than we thought. It'd be nice to just kick back, be kids when we can, all of that cliché stuff. Do you get what I mean?"

"I think I do." Reina set the sugar packet down on the table's smooth surface. "That's it. We're going." Kumiko had to smile at how determined she seemed about something so small. "Taki-sensei . . . aside, we'll have to find someone to drive us."

"She said that it's in two days. My mom's going to some meeting thing that night, I think."

"You could ask one of the third-years." Reina had picked up the sugar packet again and started to poke at its grainy corners. "You're friends with them, aren't you? I'm sure that at least one of them can drive."

"I'll ask around." Kumiko ran a hand through her hair, not quite meeting Reina's gaze. "W-why'd you really invite me here, Reina? It wasn't just for party plans, was it? Or for peace and quiet?" Reina looked away.

"I wanted to spend time with you," she said. "It's as simple as that." Kumiko felt that familiar heat rush to her cheeks, and her hands started to fidget where they rested on the table. Reina held them nonchalantly, as if it were nothing at all to do it, fingers weaving and unweaving themselves, until she broke away again. "They're always watching us - your friends, the other students, they're watching each other and waiting for something to talk about. I don't really mind it, I've never really cared about what other people think, but it's not . . . it's not _easy,_ either." Kumiko's pulse quickened, waiting for Reina to say something, _anything_ that'd explain her behavior from the past few months.

"A-and?"

"And that's all there is to it." Reina blinked quickly and stood up. Kumiko stared up at her, bewildered.

"We h-haven't even ordered anything yet."

"I think it's time to head home, Kumiko." Reina reached out her hand, and Kumiko took it. The two girls walked out the door with their shoulders pressed up against each other, as close as two people could be, and yet Kumiko felt more distant than she'd been in a long time.

* * *

 **Entire Band Group Chat (bad idea)**

 **Hazuki: okayyyy**

 **Hazuki: i know we all decided to outlaw this group chat**

 **Momo: For good reasons!**

 **Hazuki: but this is the best way to get out the news to /everyone/!**

 **Hazuki: so im holding a big party at my house two nights from now**

 **Hazuki: since were all on break anyway**

 **Hazuki: itll be really fun!**

 **Hazuki: i hope you all can come**

 **Hazuki: it starts at around 9**

 **Shuichi: Who's coming?**

 **Hazuki: i dunno**

 **Hazuki: :p**

Kumiko felt the phone trying to vibrate itself out of her pocket, taking it out after a few minutes of attempting to ignore it.

 **Kumiko: i'm going**

 **Kumiko: reina is, too**

She exhaled after sending the message, slumped over her desk.

 **Kumiko: we just need a ride**

 **Kumiko: does anyone here have their license?**

Nobody responded.

* * *

Kumiko spent most of the following day asleep, tucked beneath the soft covers of her bed as her phone beeped at random intervals.

"I should practice," she muttered to herself, even beginning to tear away the wonderful confines of the blankets, but she soon gave up and slid back under. "I've earned this, haven't I? We've all been working hard, Kansai's just a few weeks away, and I'm . . . _bleh,_ I'm just tired." She saw a package wrapped in navy blue paper resting in the dead center of her room, and finally made it out of the bed to rip open the box.

 _To the weary one-_

 _Well. You're going through things, aren't you? You're uncertain of where this is going. Everything makes you cautious, afraid of hurting the ones you love._

Kumiko stared at the paper with bleary eyes. _They're not being very chipper, huh?_

 _It's not my place to tell you not to worry. Not when the whole world's such an ugly place and being a teenage girl can be a weird, specific sort of hell._

The sun glared down through Kumiko's window, and she lazily dragged down her curtain with the letter still clutched in one hand.

 _But, that aside, you should still try to have fun! You're in the prime of your youth! Even if it's not the best part of you're life, isn't it bound to be one of the most interesting parts? Isn't it the time to make memories? You can't let that go to waste, no matter how afraid you are. I've given you something a bit pointless, a bit dumb, but I thought it was cute, and perhaps you'll like it too. Find a way to do something that'll make you happy._

 _~someone who cares just a little bit too much_

Kumiko decided to pointedly ignore the ominous tone of the letter, some sort of warning about something she couldn't see. For a minute, she entertained herself with a fantasy of her caretaker being a fortune teller, a psychic, a witch. They'd look down from a crystal ball and whisper words of enchantment and the gifts would appear from a cloud of sparkling dust, alive until they tapped them with a well-worn wand.

 _Who are you?_ she thought to herself as she lifted up the present, a plastic box with a mechanical kitten peeking out of it. _Why are you doing this?_

* * *

The next day was spent in a similar manner, though interspersed with texts to the band's group chat and to Reina. Kumiko hugged the plastic toy to her chest, its sharp corners prodding her arms.

 **Kumiko: hey**

 **Kumiko: reina**

 **Kumiko: it's noon**

 **Kumiko: i guess you already know that, though**

 **Kumiko: heh**

 **Kumiko: anyway**

Her fingers hovered over the glowing keyboard, trying to figure out what to say next.

 **Kumiko: i still haven't been able to find us a ride**

 **Kumiko: for the party i mean**

 **Kumiko: we might have to miss it**

 **Reina: Did you ask your mother?**

 **Kumiko: yep, she has the business thing tonight, just like i thought**

 **Kumiko: everyone else is busy with something else**

 **Kumiko: and i couldn't ask natsuki**

 **Reina: Why not?**

 **Kumiko: even if she has her license, she's probably really worried about kansai**

 **Reina: Right.**

 **Reina: Well, I'm heading over to your house at the moment.**

 **Kumiko: okay**

She'd heard of people staring at screens like dimwits, but she had never felt so much like one until now.

 **Kumiko: wait**

 **Kumiko: what?!**

 **Reina: Would you mind if I brought my trumpet along?**

 **Reina: I need to do it some more before the practices start up again.**

 **Kumiko: ...**

 **Kumiko: sure?**

 **Kumiko: the party's not for another nine hours, reina**

 **Kumiko: and we still don't have someone to drive us**

 **Kumiko: do you really want to spend that much time around me?**

 **Reina: I'm boarding the train now.**

 **Reina: I'll see you in about half an hour.**

Kumiko set down the phone ad promptly screamed into her pillow.

" _God,_ what does she want? Why couldn't I have fallen for someone less confusing? Someone less perfect?"

"Kumiko?" her mother called. "Is everything alright?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Kumiko looked back at the floor, and in a slightly quieter voice, she lamented, "I don't know why she's been acting like this! We kissed at the competition! We've been holding hands like it's not big deal for over a _year_ now! When's she going to say something about it?! I don't understand her!" She smacked herself in the face with the pillow, glaring at it like it was the root of all her problems. "I don't understand! I don't understand!"

 **Reina: The train's delayed.**

 **Reina: It might take a bit longer than expected.**

"I don't know what her deal is!"

 **Reina: It's coming now.**

"I don't know why she won't just _talk_ to me about it!"

 **Reina: I've stepped off, I think it'll take me about fifteen minutes to reach your apartment.**

"I thought the confusing bits were over!"

 **Reina: I'm here.**

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

By the time the doorbell rang, Kumiko had yelled out her frustrations and laid on her back, chest heaving. She pulled herself up slowly and made her way to the door, greeting Reina as if she was _not_ hopelessly in love with her and did _not_ desperately want to just _talk_ to her.

"Is it alright if we go to your room?" Reina asked. Kumiko nodded, and the two headed back into the bedroom where she'd lamented her feelings just a few minutes prior. Reina's trumpet case, still shining and new, swung at her side. "We could watch something, if you want. We have time."

"What would you want to watch?"

"Maybe some kind of fun romcom? Something pretty dumb and cute. Or m-maybe the one based on that book I was reading, I've heard it's amazing."

"I wouldn't mind that." It was a simple conversation, one any couple could have had, and for just a moment Kumiko could pretend everything was normal, that she wasn't caught in some kind of odd quasi-relationship where the girl she loved (the girl who loved her, if mountaintop confessions were any indicator) wouldn't let herself say the words out loud, wouldn't call this what it was. Kumiko booted up her laptop, let the whirring of the machine calm her, while Reina sat down on her springy bed. "Your room's nice."

"You've been here before," Kumiko chuckled. "You don't have to say it every time, y'know."

"It _is,_ though. It's . . . homey. Lived-in."

"I guess it is." The two girls looked up at the yellow ceiling. "I think some people would rather call it a mess, though."

"There's no reason it can't be both. Those two things blur into each other, don't you think?" The mattress was hardly big enough for the two of them, nothing at all like Reina's bed fit for a queen and fitted with satin.

"Just like those movies," Kumiko murmured.

"Hmm?"

"N-nothing!" The computer finished loading, and Kumiko rested it on her stomach. The opening credits began to roll just as Reina nestled herself in the crook of Kumiko's neck.

* * *

Kumiko would've liked to fall asleep like this, curled up with Reina in her arms as the movie puttered along in the background, but it was far too captivating for her to do that. She couldn't tear her eyes away, not for a second, even while Reina's warm weight rested comfortably against her.

"That was beautiful," she whispered when the final scene had ended, wiping her eyes. Reina stirred, and Kumiko couldn't - _wouldn't_ \- say anything when she saw that her cheeks were streaked with tears.

"It was," she said, sounding like her breath had been stolen away. "It really was, Kumiko."

* * *

"I can't believe we're going to have to cancel on poor Hazuki," Kumiko sighed later that evening, when the sun had long since disappeared and the moon had just started to climb above the clouds. She could hear her mother preparing for some meeting she didn't care about in the other room. "I was kinda looking forward to it, too. I know, it's dumb, right? It was just a stupid party, but I figured it'd be fun to j-just . . . let go, I guess. To stop caring for a little while, just hanging out with the band and stuff."

"It's not dumb." Reina clutched a fistful of Kumiko's downy rug, nearly tearing away the feather-like cloth. Kumiko hoped she wouldn't tear it apart right there on the spot. "It's not. We're going to make it there, somehow."

"I tried everyone, Reina." Reina seemed to deflate, as if she hadn't considered that before, though Kumiko knew she had. "They're all-"

"Hey, did someone call a chauffeur?" Kumiko sat straight up. Reina stood, like she was caught in a trance. The door creaked open, and Kumiko could hear her mother exchanging pleasantries with someone she knew.

"Ah, you're . . . Nakagawa-san, right?"

"That's me." Kumiko and Reina peeked out the door, heads stacked on top of each other like they were an old cartoon. Natsuki stood in the doorway, her familiar crooked smirk a welcome sight. "Your daughter and her . . . _friend_ needed a ride to a little thing one of our friends is holding, it's gonna be really tame, no drinking or anything."

"You're a little young, aren't you?" Kumiko could feel herself dying of secondhand embarrassment.

"I've got my license, if ya want to see it. Otherwise, I think I'll be taking these two lovely ladies off your hands for a couple of hours."

"Oh, well, if you _absolutely stay safe under all circumstances,_ I suppose I'll allow it. Text me when you get there, Kumiko, okay?" Kumiko nodded and gave her mother a quick hug and a goodbye before Natsuki took both second-years down the hallway.

"You could've given me a bit more warning, y'know," Natsuki sighed, putting a rough hand on Kumiko's shoulder. "I didn't really sign up for this surprise driver job, but ya kept asking people for rides on that damnable group chat that I couldn't really refuse. That's what friends do, right?"

"Thank you, Nakagawa-senpai," Reina murmured respectfully. Natsuki lightly punched her in the shoulder.

"No need to thank me, Kousaka. Lighten up, will ya? We're supposed to leave all our worries behind or whatever. I don't really get it, but leaving behind worries seems like a pretty damn good thing to do right around now." Natsuki scratched the back of her neck, looking like she was in a better mood than Kumiko had seen her in for a long time. "The truck's parked out in the front. It's no limo, but it'll do." Reina looked nervously back and forth.

"We were pretty lucky, huh?" Kumiko whispered to her as Natsuki clambered into the driver's seat.

"We were," Reina whispered back. "Are you sure she can drive, though?" The truck rattled to life, and Natsuki let out a whoop.

"She's fine, Reina. I'll call shotgun, if it makes you feel better. I've heard that the backseat's a lot safer." Reina nodded with such vigor that Kumiko was surprised her neck didn't snap in two. "Okay, I call shotgun!" Natsuki fondly patted the seat beside her, and Kumiko hopped in. Reina awkwardly crept into the back and strapped herself into the seat. "When did you get your license, Natsuki?" Natsuki turned on the radio and started to back out of the building's parking lot before answering.

"Just last month. I had to do _something_ to get the prez out of my head, y'know? So, I thought 'why not do something useful?' And here I am, with a driver's license to my name and all the open roads to explore."

"That was . . . poetic," Reina said. Natsuki shrugged.

"You haven't lived until you've stuck your head out the window like in the movies. When someone else is driving, of course, but actually being behind the wheel is a pretty similar feeling." Natsuki gripped the steering wheel in both hands as the town lights blinked by. It was a lovely night, Kumiko could see that from her spot in the passenger's seat, but Natsuki remained focused on the road.

"R-right." Kumiko fiddled with the dials of the radio, switching it from a pop song she'd heard a thousand times before to the tail end of a rock ballad. "Speaking of which, is everything . . . okay?" Natsuki held onto the steering wheel tighter, if that was possible.

"I'm fine," she finally said after an agonizing few seconds of silence. Her grip on the wheel relaxed a bit. "Don't start doting on me, alright? Momo's already got her hands full with that job, as much as I tell her not to worry about it. We're going to a _party,_ Kumiko! We'll all have fun and goof off and forget our troubles." Natsuki sped up the truck just a bit after a red light turned green.

"Yep. I'll, uh, try to remember that." Kumiko straightened her back and felt the rough faux leather of the seat brush up against her.

"Hey, Kousaka, how're ya holding up back there?"

"I'm fine," Reina said plainly. "You're a good driver."

"Thanks." Natsuki didn't take her eyes off the road in front of her. "Hey, we're almost here! I'll drop you two off at the front and swing around the block to find parking, if that's okay?"

"Yeah." Kumiko started to unbuckle her seatbelt as Hazuki's house came into view. "Sounds good." The truck sputtered to a stop, and Kumiko got out just a few seconds before Reina did.

"I'll see you two in a few minutes!" Natsuki called before the truck rumbled away again. Kumiko rang the doorbell nervously, with Reina close behind. Hazuki swung the door open hardly a second later, ushering the two of them in, and the sight that Kumiko was greeted with was something she thought she'd carry with her for a good few decades.

It wasn't many people - Kumiko counted maybe thirty - but half of them were practically bouncing off the walls, turning up the old stereo until the sound crackled, dancing like nobody was watching.

(People were watching, and they looked ridiculous, but Kumiko wasn't about to say that)

"Are you, uh, s-sure that you didn't bring any alcohol?" she asked. Hazuki waved her off with a grin.

"Nah, of course not! I _may_ have put out the red cups without saying anything about what was in them, though." Kumiko looked out at the crowd again.

"So . . . they _think_ they're drunk?"

 _"Bingo!"_ Hazuki chirped, in English. Kumiko felt a strange pang in her chest.

"I'm surprised she never threw one of these," she murmured. Hzuki blinked.

"Who?"

"Asuka-senpai. I guess she was too busy with her work, though."

"Yeah, yeah, she would've thrown something great. But she's gone now, and you need to go have fun!" Hazuki promptly shoved Kumiko into the center of the makeshift "dance floor," an old carpet duct-taped to the floor beneath it. She bobbed up and down slightly, nervously watching the others for some kind of signal. There wasn't one. Eventually, she gave up and just started swaying from side to side like she was a small tree in the breeze, still held by braces to stop itself from falling down. She didn't even really notice when her feet started doing things she didn't understand and she was rubbed up against people she hardly ever talked to, friends of friends and strangers she'd seen in passing.

"You're here!" Kumiko bumped into someone and looked down to see Midori, with the widest smile on her face she'd ever seen. "It's amazing, isn't it? This is how music should make people feel, like they can do anything!" She skipped away, and Kumiko watched her disappear back into the cluster of students.

"This is . . . nice." Reina appeared behind her like a phantom of some sort, clutching one of the cups in her hand. "They all seem to be having fun, at least."

"W-would you want to, uh, y'know . . ." Kumiko lamely gestured to the groups of people dancing. "Together?"

"I have no idea what you just said," Reina deadpanned. The song on the stereo had switched to something old-timey and soft, and the students slowed their movements in time with it.

"It's nothing," Kumiko mumbled. "D-don't worry about it."

"In that case, I'm going to find a balcony where I can get some fresh air. Katou-san's house is a bit . . . stuffy, when there are about forty people crammed into it." Kumiko looked around, and sure enough, more students had joined the party, some of them she didn't even recognize.

 _Are they all from the band?_ She banished the thought from her mind as she watched Reina creep up the stairs and disappear behind a corridor. Kumiko wondered, idly, why Reina had even wanted to go to this party if she didn't seem to be having a good time at all, if she was simply waiting for an escape. Her thoughts were interrupted, rather rudely, when Nozomi and Mizore both bumped into her as they cut through the dance floor hurriedly.

"Sorry!" they both blurted out. Nozomi's ponytail was undone, and Mizore's scarf was tied at an awkward angle, and Kumiko decided not to think about what they had been doing prior to this escape.

"Hey, I'm here! Geez, the parking out there frickin' sucks!" Natsuki burst through the door with her hands in the air.

"Natsuki-senpai!" Hazuki yelled. "C'mon, join us!" Kumiko froze.

"Having fun, Kumiko?" Natsuki asked. Kumiko slowly nodded, blinking to get Hazuki's badly-timed words out of her head. "Where's Kousaka?"

"I don't know. She went out to get some fresh air."

"Well, she needs to get here soon, or else she'll miss Spin the Bottle!" Midori squeaked, holding up an empty bottle with a half-peeled label on it.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to play something like that when most of the band is girls?" Hazuki whispered to Midori. Natsuki snorted.

"Are you sure it's _not?_ " she said. Reina reached the bottom of the stairs just as the song switched again to something Kumiko might've heard years and years ago.

"What are we doing?" Reina asked.

"Spin the Bottle!" Midori squeaked, though whether it was a general announcement or an answer, Kumiko couldn't tell. "Anyone who wants to play it, head over to the fancy carpet!" About half of the party shuffled to the carpet, whispering amongst themselves, and Kumiko reluctantly followed, and Reina reluctantly followed her. "Now, I'm guessing you all know the rules of this game?" Midori was talking like a hammy radio announcer, but her voice had a certain charm to it that made Kumiko smile.

"I'll go first!" the percussionist first-year boy who had been the first to join the club early that year raised his hand. Midori handed him the bottle gravely, as if he was about to choose someone's death sentence. The bottle landed on a second-year clarinet who Kumiko had talked to maybe twice, and as the two of them politely kissed on the cheek, she knew that the game had truly begun.

* * *

Several rounds later, Hazuki took the bottle into shaky hands and closed her eyes as it spun. Her whispers of _please be Shuichi please be Shuichi please be Shuichi_ weren't lost on anyone, though Shuichi hadn't even decided to go to the party. The bottle slowed and pointed directly at Natsuki. Hazuki opened one eye and promptly flinched.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Natsuki said. "I won't mind." Hazuki tapped her foot like an impatient rabbit.

"It won't make me gay, right? If I kiss you?"

"It wouldn't be _making_ you gay, ya know. If you like it, you're probably not straight. I'd just be the enabler, the conductor, whatever. But I completely get it if-" Natsuki couldn't even finish her sentence before Hazuki grabbed her face and kissed her like it was the end of the world. A few students cheered. Natsuki drew back with her cheeks dusted a light pink and her mouth agape. "Wow." Hazuki sat back with the expression of someone who had just been pleasantly tranquilizer.

"I'm going to think about some things," she mumbled shakily before she stood up and walked out the back door.

"I think we broke her," Natsuki said. "Kawashima, d'you think you could . . . go out and make sure she's okay?"

"Hazuki-chan likes thinking about this stuff on her own," Midori squeaked, having lost her radio announcer voice. "I think she'd want us to keep on having fun at her party." Natsuki nodded sagely. Reina squirmed in her spot next to Kumiko. "So, who's next?" Kumiko looked to the empty spot beside her, and realized with a jolt that it was her.

"Uh, it's . . . me? I-if you want to do someone else, that's fine-" Midori all but flung the bottle at her. She spun it and watched each turn as the circle did the same, Hazuki slowly creeping back into the house from the back porch, until it landed directly next to her. Reina's breaths became shorter and faster, while the band started to grin.

"I can't believe your luck!" Hazuki cheered, though Kumiko heard an odd wavering in her voice. "You and Kousaka-san, together again!"

"It's the red string of fate!" Midori squealed. Reina's face had been drained of any color, and she started to stand up and walk away as if in a trance. "Kousaka-san?" Reina broke into a run and pushed open the door. Kumiko ran after her while the rest of the band looked to each other for some explanation, but there was none, because there had never been one and Kumiko knew that all too well.

"Reina!" she yelled, her voice hoarse, with the light from the open door casting her in a strange spotlight. Reina stopped in her tracks and spun around. She was trembling. "Please, j-just tell me what's going on!" Reina didn't answer. "What's going on, Reina? Why're you acting like this?" Kumiko had, of course, heard the phrase "the wind howled," but she'd never quite felt it until now. "Tell me, _please!"_

"When we get back," Reina said, finally. "When practice starts up again, I'll tell you then." She turned around and walked away until she'd blended in with the murky colors of the night, and Kumiko was left alone.

* * *

 **a/n:** *cheesy tv announcer voice* next week on year two...kumiko finally gets answers


	10. Queer Trumpet

**a/n:** the entire reason i did this chapter naming scheme was for this one

also! recap movie! not as exciting as a third season or a rikka spinoff but, y'know, still cool

* * *

Kumiko and Natsuki rode in silence a few hours later, the backseat's emptiness seeming to hang over both their heads.

"Katou was a pretty good kisser," Natsuki finally said, propping her elbow up on the dashboard. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Yeah."

"Hey, is everything okay? Kousaka just . . . disappeared right after that stupid-ass bottle landed on her."

"I t-think she was just surprised."

"Well, it's a dumb game, anyway. I wouldn't have bothered with it if it hadn't been for the heat of the moment."

"You looked like you were having fun, though."

"I was. That doesn't change how stupid of a game it is."

"Right." A quiet piano ballad played from the radio. "I'm glad you had fun."

"Hey, it's not like we can be sad forever about stuff. My girlfriend and I broke up, yeah, and it sucks, but I'm . . . managing. I chopped off my hair, she buried herself in her work, we've all got our methods, and it's all for the best. It wasn't working out. It's like . . . ripping off a band-aid, I guess. The party, weird as it was, helped ease that a little bit." Kumiko let out a chuckle. "What's so funny?"

"It's just that you're a lot wiser than people give you credit for." Natsuki smirked, but it was far softer than the smirks Kumiko had seen before.

"Now, don't go trying to flatter me, it won't get ya anywhere."

"I'm not!" Kumiko yelped. "It's true!"

"Eh, believe that if ya want to. You've got Kousaka already in love with you, it's not a great idea to form a harem."

"She's not."

"What?"

"She's not in love with me. At least, I don't think she is. She told me that she'd g-give me answers when we got back from break, but I don't know what that means. I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it."

"Do any of us know what to do when it comes to love, really?"

"I guess you've got a point." Kumiko poked the pair of fuzzy dice that dangled above the truck's mirror.

"Still, you two have something the rest of us can really only daydream about. Don't waste that, okay?"

"I'll try." The truck slowed to a stop.

"We're here. Do you need me to walk you up there?"

"I'm fine. Thanks, though." Kumiko started to get out of the truck, her feet making contact with the pavement.

"Don't mention it."

"Oh, and Natsuki?"

"Yeah?"

"You're pretty great yourself, y'know. I hope you know that." Natsuki blinked.

"Of course I know that," she scoffed, her voice wavering. "See ya, Kumiko!" The truck whirred away, and for just a moment, Kumiko forgot all about Reina's terrified expression in the face of that stupid bottle.

* * *

She slept in until noon the next day. Her bedsheets were all too cozy for her to do anything else, too inviting and too wonderful. It wasn't like she'd have been able to handle seeing her messages to Reina left unread, anyway. She watched the hours tick by, knowing that with each passing second she got just a little bit closer to practice resuming, to Kansai, to seeing Reina again.

"Maybe I should've gone after her," she murmured to her cacti sitting across the room from her. "I could've asked her about it right there and then." No response. "I c-could've done _something,_ right?" The silence of the room deafened her, and she wriggled back beneath the covers to hide.

* * *

Kansai drew closer and closer, though the reality of it didn't quite hit Kumiko until her alarm jostled her awake on the day the band was set to resume practices. She dragged herself out of bed, gathering her things, and took a deep breath as she stepped out the door.

"I'm going to be okay," she muttered to herself. "We're going to play in the Kansai competition, I'm going to talk to Reina, it'll all be good."

She caught sight of Reina stepping onto the train just seconds before it wailed away down the tunnels. It was futile, Kumiko knew, to call after her, to chase down the train or yell her name like the protagonists did in movies. Her legs couldn't go that fast, and Reina wouldn't hear her anyway.

"Guess I'll just wait," she said to nobody in particular, plopping down on a rickety bench. The next train seemed to take hours to arrive, but Kumiko was the first to get on when it did.

* * *

The campus seemed desolate, unfriendly, and Kumiko took a shuddering breath as she walked through the front doors. Reina was the first to greet her, though her expression was enough to tell Kumiko that she wouldn't talk until later.

"Did you get the key to the storage room?" Reina asked, not even bothering with pleasantries. Kumiko held up her euphonium case in response.

"It was already open. I guess someone already started practicing." As if on cue, she started to hear the familiar sound of Nozomi's flute drifting down the staircases, joined by a familiar oboe. "Oh."

"They both sound beautiful." Reina's eyes were closed, her head tilted upwards, looking to be at peace. "It's a shame that they won't both be playing together again in front of a crowd, not unless they go to the same college."

"Y-yeah." The thought depressed Kumiko for reasons she didn't quite understand. "I guess we should head up to the music room." Reina opened her eyes.

"I suppose so."

* * *

Taki walked to the conductor's stand with a tiredness in his step that Kumiko wasn't familiar with. Some members of the band whispered amongst themselves, while others stayed focused on tuning their instruments. Natsuki looked straight ahead.

"As you all know, the Kansai competition is in two weeks."

"Why does he always start important stuff with 'as you all know?'" Momo whispered. Kumiko shrugged, hardly even paying attention. She couldn't see Reina's expression from where she sat, and it was worrying her more than she'd have liked to admit.

"This will not be an easy period of time. There won't be many breaks, and please expect practices to last beyond the usual end time. If this is a problem for any reason, please take it up with me after class."

"Well, duh." Natsuki smoothed out her skirt, rolling her eyes. "We're so close to the competition that it'd be kinda weird for him to _not_ push us harder, right?"

"Not to mention that he's leaving next year, so this is his last-" Kumiko covered her mouth as she realized what she was saying and hoped that nobody could see her shaking. Momo's glasses dropped to the edge of her nose.

"Taki-sensei's . . . leaving?" she breathed. Natsuki looked to Kumiko and then to Taki and then to Momo, nervousness clear as daylight in her eyes the whole way through.

"Hey, Momo, Kumiko's not really in the mood to talk about this, so-"

"He's _leaving?_ Who's going to take us to Nationals next year? And the year after that?" Kumiko tried to draw upon old breathing exercises, tried to slow her heart rate, but to no avail. Taki looked up from his stand to see the ruckus.

"Is everything alright, euphs?" he asked. Kumiko nodded quickly, trying to ignore how she felt like throwing up. Her head was throbbing, Momo was _staring_ at her, she'd just revealed a secret, and there was nothing she could do about any of it.

"Well, then, let's-"

"A-actually, I feel kinda sick, is it okay if I lie down in the nurse's office for a bit?"

"You can go. I'll send someone to get you when practice is over." Kumiko mumbled a shaky _thank you_ and stood up, staggering over to reach the door. Reina shot her a sympathetic look.

* * *

Kumiko was regaled with thoughts of every kind while she laid in the stiff school bed, tossing and turning as her skull pounded against the sides of her head.

 _I'm letting them down right now by not practicing. I told Momo something she shouldn't know. I'm an idiot._ The nurse - a kindly woman with soft gray eyes and a hunched back - shuffled to and for, asking Kumiko if she needed painkillers or water or anything of that sort. She said _no_ to each one. _I'm such an idiot._

* * *

Time didn't seem to pass normally - she'd try to sleep for what felt like hours and look at the clock to see that only two minutes had passed, or she'd close her eyes for half a second and the light of the window would've changed.

"Your friends are here," the nurse said, after a period of time she couldn't begin to guess at. "I'll head out for a moment - I wouldn't want to intrude, hoo! Yell if you need anything." She pushed open the door and walked out, and in her place stood Hazuki, Midori, and Reina.

"Are you feeling better?" Midori asked.

"Are you going to make it to Kansai?" Hazuki whimpered. "You're not gonna die, right?" Kumiko let out a hoarse laugh.

"I'm fine," she chuckled. "Really, I'm fine." Reina hadn't budged from the doorway.

"You nearly passed out!" Midori sped over to the bed and hovered over Kumiko like a doctor watching her patient. "What happened?" Kumiko flipped over to the other side of the pillow, avoiding Midori's gaze.

"I just got sick, that's it." She gripped the thin sheets, still knowing that Midori would want to know more, still knowing that she couldn't really give her an answer. "I'm feeling better now."

"Are you _sure?_ " Hazuki pressed.

"I'm sure."

"It's better to take a break instead of just overworking yourself all the time, you kn-"

"I know, I know!" Somehow, Kumiko couldn't bring herself to be annoyed at the two of them. Reina finally took a step forward.

"If we're done here, I'd like to-"

"W-wait!" Kumiko sat right up in the bed, reaching out to Reina as if she could pull her back. "You said we'd . . . talk, today. About everything." Reina hugged herself, though Kumiko had a feeling it had nothing at all to do with the chilled air conditioning of the nurse's office. The stare she gave Kumiko could've ripped the room apart.

"Kawashima-san?" Reina finally said, slowly, deliberately, exhaling with each syllable. "Katou-san?"

"Yes?" they both squeaked nervously.

"I think Taki-sensei needs some more help putting away the instruments."

"Yes, ma'am!" The duo skittered out, and Kumiko and Reina were left alone together.

"So?" Kumiko murmured quietly. Reina sat at her bedside, eyes downcast.

"So, what do you need to know?" Her voice had softened considerably.

"Why're you . . . acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like we're dating, but we're not." Kumiko felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders as soon as she said those six words. Reina took a deep breath, her dark hair rustling in the powerful breeze of the various fans scattered around the room.

"I never quite _knew_ what people were talking about, when they brought up romance. It was a lovely concept, sure, something to daydream, about, to consider as a thing for the future. I never really _felt_ it."

"Not until Taki-sensei, right?" Reina shifted her haunches.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" Kumiko echoed in confusion.

"I wouldn't call it that special _click_ that's supposed to happen, but it seemed close enough. We had similar ideals - he was the one who made me want to become special, to follow my ambitions and refuse to let what anyone said get in my way. I wasn't doing it _for_ him, obviously - that would've been excessive - but I always thought that if I could just catch up to him, if I could just be mature enough for him to stop seeing me as a child, we'd be equals and I'd have someone to walk this road with."

"Oh." Kumiko didn't know what she'd been expecting, but more gushing about the man who was twice Reina's age wasn't it. She waited for Reina to finish, after that.

"That seemed like it fit the idea of _love,_ didn't it? A handsome man, talented and mysterious, perfect if only I'd been born a few years earlier. It's not like I'd ever heard of any other kind of love. I didn't have anything to compare this to, so _of course_ it was romantic. It had to be. I had never felt anything that strong before."

"Then what?" Reina exhaled a deep sigh, pulling her knees close to her chest.

"I focused on my studies, my trumpet, everything that was concrete and real and simple. It worked, for a while, and I made myself think that what I felt for Taki-sensei was everything a young woman could feel. It wasn't like there was anything else I could've felt, no others options I'd heard of." Reina blinked quickly, violet eyes hidden behind gray shutters. "Then you came along."

 _"Me?!"_ Kumiko yelped.

"Yes, you." Reina paused for a moment. "I wasn't lying, you know, when I said that it was a confession of love on that mountain, but I thought that it would pass. I didn't know what any of this meant, but it wasn't like I could simply ask you to explain it and then come along with me on some journey of self-discovery. I just let it sit there for a while, if we're being honest, testing the waters, waiting for _something,_ running back to whatever those feelings for Taki-sensei were whenever things became too intense."

"He was safe," Kumiko realized. "H-he was familiar."

"Exactly." Reina breathed again, her leg jiggling. "I couldn't give any of this a name, so I just pretended it wasn't happening while I held your hand and danced around it all. Terrible, right?"

"You're not-"

"I didn't want to be the villain, Kumiko. I didn't want to be the outsider more than I already was. I saw what the president and vice president had and lost and how everyone - _myself included_ \- reacted to it, and I knew that I couldn't say anything about this. Not to your two friends, not to Taki-sensei, not to anyone." The room was silent for a moment, the whirring of five fans at once as the only sound. "I'm so-" Reina didn't finish speaking before Kumiko rested her head on her shoulder.

"It's okay," she whispered, gripping Reina's hand tightly in her own. "You don't need to be sorry." Reina seemed to lose the tense air she'd had about her and leaned against Kumiko.

"It really shouldn't have taken that long to talk about it," she said.

"We have time, Reina."

"I suppose we do."

* * *

They walked home hand-in-hand, kissing their goodbyes, and as Reina walked away, Kumiko knew that something had changed.

* * *

Reina greeted her at the station the next morning bright-eyed, pulling Kumiko into a tight embrace as soon as she got close enough.

"I guess we're on the same page now?" Kumiko chuckled, still dancing around the word _dating._ She'd waited long enough, so what problem was there with waiting a bit more? Reina smiled.

"I suppose we are," she said, already on her way to step onto the train. There was an airiness to her voice that Kumiko wasn't used to. "We don't need to give it a name, though."

"Right."

* * *

Kumiko felt like she was walking atop the clouds for the rest of the train ride - she was certain that there would be little cartoon hears dancing around her head if anyone looked her way - and Reina seemed similarly carefree. Any reservation - nothing that there had been much in the first place - was cast aside to the wind, and the two of them all but spooned until they reached the school. Reina broke off to speak with Taki about her studies, and Kumiko was surprised by how little she worried about that. Skipping to the music room, she was greeted by Hazuki and Midori hunched over boxes, craning their necks to look back at her.

"You look happy," Hazuki said. Kumiko didn't know how something like that could sound accusing, but it did.

"You're not going to spare us the details, right?" Midori said, in a similarly intimidating tone. Hazuki flipped over in one smooth movement and sat on the flimsy box, ignoring how it creaked under her weight. Midori bounded over to her in two steps, and anything that might've seemed somehow menacing about the two of them disappeared under the fluorescent lighting that seemed to register the presence of the trio when Midori passed it.

"You've gotta tell us everything!"

"You're a sweet, young maiden in love!"

"Tell us what happened after we left!" Kumiko shifted from one foot to the other as Hazuki and Midori awaited her response. She pulled out one of the boxes and sat on it after a moment, putting her chin in her hands.

"We . . . talked about some stuff, and realized some stuff, and now we're closer than we were before." Hazuki furrowed her brow.

"That's the vaguest thing you could've said!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air and promptly sending the box she was sitting on toppling back. "Ow."

"Hazuki-chan!" Midori yelped. She looked like a terrified chick, hopping up and down as she tried to help Hazuki up from her spot on the floor.

"What're these for, anyway?" Kumiko jabbed a finger in the direction of the boxes.

"Oh, they're cupcakes!"

"Is it someone's birthday?" Kumiko tried to run through all the birthdays of people she could remember in her mind, but none of them came up as today.

"Nah, they're goodbye presents!"

"F-for who?" Hazuki tilted her head to the side curiously,

"You didn't know? I thought you were the one who told Momo."

 _Oh my god._ "How'd you hear about it?"

"Oh, well, word got around, and Tsubame - she's sort of an old friend from the Monaka days - told me that Taki-sensei was quitting, so I asked her where she'd gotten that info, and _she_ said that it was Rie who'd told her, and that Hiyoko had told _her,_ telling everyone she knew, because you know how she's crazy about Taki-sensei, right?"

"Hazuki, I've talked to maybe two of these people."

"And Hiyoko heard it from Momo!" Hazuki finished. "Man, those clarinets are chatty! I guess it was Momo who started it, though, you should really talk to-"

"None of you were supposed to know about that!" Kumiko blurted out. Hazuki froze.

"You mean . . . he's _not_ quitting?" she asked. Midori had started to fix up the boxes, shoving crumpled plastic containers back inside them.

"His contract's running out, at least that's what Reina told me. She w-wanted it to stay a secret, she doesn't know the whole story, _none_ of us do."

"Oh."

"Reina's gonna think I told everyone," Kumiko muttered shakily, breathlessly, the lightness she'd felt just minutes before all but vanished. "She's never going to be able to trust me again. We won't ever be able to talk to each other, she's just going to think I'm stupid and dishonest and-"

"It's fine, it's fine!" Hazuki violently patted Kumiko on the back in what was probably her version of a comforting gesture. "Kousaka-san's a . . . sweetheart. She won't get mad at you for this!"

"You paused before 'sweetheart,'" Midori pointed out dryly. Then, to Kumiko, she fell to her knees. "We're so sorry for this! We might've broken your red string of fate! We might've just snapped it, cut it in half, like this!" Midori mimicked a snipping motion with her fingers. "The cupcakes were my idea! I'll take the blame!" Kumiko had never seen Midori in hysterics like this before.

"T-thanks?" Kumiko stuttered. Midori climbed to her feet.

"I'm not going to let anything we did get in the way of what you two have," she said.

"Yeah!" Hazuki chimed in. "You're gay soulmates!"

"You really don't have to say-"

"I kissed Natsuki-senpai at my party, does that count for something?"

 _She's flipping the conversation on its head._ "Hazuki, I know you mean well, but this really isn't about you or Natsuki or the red string of fate or anything other than these cupcakes." Kumiko gestured aggressively to the damnable confections still peeking out of the boxes. "How many did you _make?_ "

"About two hundred," Midori replied proudly. "I bought them, actually, but it was late at night and I could hardly see anything! I was carrying a grocery bag bigger than myself."

"What do we do with them?" Kumiko tried to kick one of the containers under a table, but it became even more glaringly obvious when it skidded there.

"The closet!" Hazuki blurted out. "Taki-sensei won't think to look there! We'll just cram 'em all in there and then pick them up after school! Foolproof!" Kumiko let out a sigh of defeat.

"It seems like the best idea we have right now," she said, and just as the three of them got to work, a certain trumpeter stepped into the room. Kumiko nearly dropped the container she was currently trying to force behind a set of pencils.

"What are you doing?" Reina asked. Kumiko could feel sweat dripping down her forehead, her neck, staining her uniform, coating her, and she just barely forced out an answer.

"We were . . . uh . . . going to celebrate Hazuki's birthday!" she lied. Reina raised an eyebrow.

"I thought her birthday was in February."

"It is, but, uh, we're celebrating it kinda late!"

"Six months late?"

"Y-yep!" Kumiko flashed a fake grin and bolted for the hallway. Reina, ever the fastest person there, caught up to her with ease.

"Kumiko, what are you doing?" Kumiko took a deep breath in, already feeling the tears start to prick her eyelids.

"I think the band knows about Taki-sensei," she admitted with shoulders hunched and her back to Reina.

"About my . . . feelings? Of course they know, I confessed to him in an auditorium with everyone I've ever known packed in there." Kumiko rubbed her temples.

"No, not that, not that," she muttered. "About his . . . quitting. His contract running out. Whatever."

"Oh." Kumiko gritted her teeth and clenched her muscles as if bracing for impact. "You told someone, then."

"I blurted it out to Momo! I didn't know it'd go beyond the euphs." Reina didn't speak. "I'm s-sorry, Reina."

"It's not really anything to worry about," Reina said simply, though there was a hint of sharpness to her tone. "We should head back in there. They'll need help with those cupcakes for Katou-san's late birthday, after all."

* * *

Kumiko tried to push the cupcakes from her mind, tried to focus on the way Reina circled her thumb around her palm when they held hands on the way home, but Kumiko feared that she was already a million miles away by the time they took that one parting step on the way to her apartment.

She arrived home to a darkened room and a box sitting squarely in the doorway. She nearly tripped over it after stepping inside.

"Mom?" she called nervously. "Are you here?"

"Keep it down, will you?" Kumiko felt chills down her spine at the familiar voice. "I come home for _once,_ and I can't even get some sleep on our own couch?"

"Mamiko!"

"Who else would it be?" Mamiko flicked on the light switch and sat up, ruffling Kumiko's hair affectionately. "I was going to call you, but your cell was off."

"Why're you here?" Mamiko snorted at the question.

"Blunt as ever, I see. We had a couple of days off. I wanted to see my family for a little while, but I guess Mom and Dad are busy with something? Anyway, here I am. How's the band going?"

"The band? Oh, it's . . ." Kumiko thought of Natsuki and Yuuko's fight, of Reina and the myriad of feelings she caused, of Hazuki's odd brokenness and of Nozomi and Mizore's seemingly unbreakable bond that refused to adhere to the band's rules. She thought, soon afterward, of that wonderful feeling of playing in an ensemble, of Momo's eager expression when things went right, of Natsuki's bursts of enthusiasm and of the lightness she'd felt while kissing Reina.

"Kumiko?" Mamiko, rather rudely, snapped her perfectly manicured fingers in front of Kumiko's face. "The band?"

"R-right! Yeah, I think it's going okay." The box still sat in the entrance, toppled from Kumiko's less-than-graceful tumble over it. "It's going okay."

* * *

Mamiko, as it turned out, was doing quite well - "I guess it took me long enough to figure it all out, maybe the universe is giving me a second chance," she had joked - and had settled into her new life without much difficulty. Kumiko had to admit that she was a bit jealous.

"It's not all frills, though, there's a lot of stuff you'll wish you'd never grown to learn about - taxes, for one - but it's pretty neat rigt now. There're some guys at the local cafes who make moony eyes whenever I walk by, it's kind of sad, really." A grin spread across Mamiko's face. "How about you, then?"

"Eh?"

"Anyone special in your life?" Kumiko wanted to turn the lights off so that her sister wouldn( see her face turning red.

"W-well, there is this girl . . . we're sort of dating? I don't really know, but she's amazing. She's always driven by her ambitions, she doesn't let anything or anyone get in the way of what she wants, b-but she still really cares a lot. She's beautiful, Mamiko. She's l-like . . . a snow spirit, or something like that. I used to think she couldn't be from this world, she was too incredible for that, b-but I've started to realize that she's just as human as I am. That doesn't make her any less extraordinary, though. She's still one of the most amazing people I've ever met." Mamiko laughed.

"You've got it bad, don't you?"

"Shut up." Kumiko smacked Mamiko with the pillow closest to her.

"You think that you've still got the same touch you had when we were kids?" Mamiko flung two pillows at her in quick succession.

"I've gotten better, actually." Kumiko quietly snuck one of the pillows from the ground and hid it until Mamiko started to restock her fluffy ammo, bringing it down on her head at the soonest chance. Both of them fell off of the couch.

"I haven't done that in _years!_ " Mamiko exclaimed. Kumiko spit out a feather.

"T-this was great, Sis, but I should probably go to sleep now. It's late, and I've got practice tomorrow, and I think I might've inhaled more feathers than any person should."

"I'll be sleeping in my old room, then!" Mamiko waved her off, and Kumiko headed for her room with the thoughts of the day all but forgotten.

* * *

Kumiko could hear her sister's snoring all the way from where she sat, ad she chuckled at the sound. The box now sat on her carpet, wrapped in pale blue paper this time - the caretaker seemed to have a thing for blues - and she waited until she knew that Mamiko was fast asleep to open it.

 _There's no point in trying to explain this to her, too,_ she thought, tentatively tearing off the beginnings of the wrapping paper. She opened the box, half-expecting it to start glowing, but instead it was simply the usual tissue paper and note.

 _To the fool in love-_

 _Well, it's happened. You're thinking a lot about this, aren't you?_

Kumiko had given up on thinking anything about these had been a coincidence.

 _You're lost, confused, scared._

 _"Why aren't you happy?" you say to yourself. "Why aren't you dancing among the stars? Why aren't you floating so high that nothing can drag you back down to reality? Isn't this what you've always wanted?"_

 _Oh, but the mind is a fickle thing. I can't say I have much experience on the subject, but I've seen movies. I know how you're feeling. Life has a way of pretending that it's a kiddie ride until you're flipped onto a rollercoaster, you know. I can't promise you that everything's going to be alright. I think you know that._

Kumiko looked out the window at the full moon shining brilliantly through the trees.

 _The thing about rollercoasters, though, is that they have ups and downs. Things will balance themselves out in the end._

Kumiko set down the letter for a moment, watching the stars twinkle.

 _I don't know when I'll have another chance to send one of these, so here's something to keep you occupied until then._

 _~someone who's been through the wringer a few times_

There, nestled among the mass of tissue paper, was a book of euphonium songs.

* * *

Mamiko was gone the next morning, leaving nothing but a note with a winky face drawn on it, but somehow Kumiko couldn't find it in her to be sad.

"I hope you're doing well, Sis," she murmured on her way out the door, bag slung over her shoulder. "I hope you end up happy."

* * *

Kumiko was reminded of the cupcake fiasco as soon as she reached the train station. Reina stood, eyes focused on the empty railroad tracks with half-empty cans of energy drinks and a very sad-looking baseball cap scattered across them.

"Hey, Reina?" Kumiko said tentatively. Reina didn't move, didn't even blink. "We're s-still on the same page, right?" Reina nodded slowly.

"We should get on," she said. The train hadn't arrived yet.

"Y-yeah." Kumiko waited with as much stillness as she could, hardly even twitching, until the train came like a metallic angel sent straight from above to deliver her from this hellish platform.

The ride was silent.

* * *

The next week and a half was spent on nothing but preparation for Kansai. Kumiko hardly ever found time for breaks, hardly ever even had time to breathe, all while Reina refused to address the breach of trust the two of the, had encountered.

"Aren't you going home with Kousaka-san?" Hazuki asked curiously one nervous Tuesday, when the competition was just three days away and Kumiko was as nervous as she'd ever been.

"She's staying behind." Kumiko hugged herself so tightly that she could feel her fingernails digging into her own arm. "I asked her already, she said that she had to g-get ready for Nationals." The evening sky had started to darken the city outside, waking up the lights of the buildings along the skyline. "Not even Kansai. Just Nationals."

"I really don't get you." Hazuki looked up, as if the hanging lights would provide her some sort of answer. "I don't understand you or Kousaka-san. You're both so driven to do what you want and you both love each other a whole lot, so why is it always so tough for you to get along?" Kumiko felt her breath hitch when Hazuki said the word _love._ "I've watched you stumble around your feelings for almost two years, Kumiko. I'm getting impatient, here!" Hazuki comically stomped her foot, and Kumiko chuckled softly.

"I'm trying, Hazuki." Hazuki promptly elbowed her in the ribs. "What was that for?!"

"Try harder! Tell her before it's too late, dummy!"

"T-tell her what?"

 _An audition, a supporter and a villain with their faces just inches away from each other, a confession of love on both their lips. The room had shaken, she wondered if Reina had even heard her, she wondered what it meant._

 _She'd shown her resolve in that quiet clapping, she'd made eye contact, but they never did talk about what it meant. It was left as an encouragement, so,etching never to be brought up again. Now, Kumiko wished she'd said something else. Already, she knew that the strings were starting to unravel and all she could do was remember that single day where they had known everything about each other, just two weeks ago._

"Kumiko?" Hazuki stomped her foot again. "Geez, you've been spacing out a lot lately. Is everything okay?"

"I'm f-fine," Kumiko mumbled, staggering forward. Hazuki looked down at the ground before tightening her grip on one of the straps of her rainbow backpack and reaching out to grab Kumiko by the arm.

"Hey!" she snapped. Kumiko was yanked back, twirled around to face her.

 _That's going to leave a mark,_ she thought, rubbing her sore arm. "How'd you get so strong?"

"I've been working out, and I used to take karate when I was a little kid- that's not what this is about! Kumiko, you're obviously not okay, so why don't you say something about it?"

"I'm stressed." Hazuki leaned in.

"And?"

"Kansai is in three days."

 _"And?"_ Hazuki leaned in closer until Kumiko had to back away.

'"I'm scared, okay?!"' She threw her arms up in exasperation. "I don't know why Reina's acting like this, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do, every time I get more answers things just get weirder, and it's all just . . . it's too big."

"Too . . . big?" Hazuki echoed.

"You remember when Asuka-senpai left the band for a few weeks, right?"

"Yeah, of course. It was because of her mom, I think? Or her grades. I heard both."

"Well, I ended up begging her to come back. I saw parts of her that I didn't really want to see. I think everyone still sees her as a kind of old deity, someone to remember as perfect, b-but she wasn't. She wasn't, and _I_ had to see that firsthand. I loved her, Hazuki - not in a romantic sense, but the way you love a sister, you get that, right?" Hazuki was stunned into silence, for once. "If someone as strong as Asuka-senpai could've been broken so easily, what's there to say for the rest of us? I d-don't know what's going to happen next. I don't know why everything seems to be happening at once, but I just want it to _stop."_ Hazuki started to pat her on the shoulder before awkwardly wrapping her in a hug.

"Hey, hey, you'll be okay. It'll all be okay, don't worry."

"Thanks, Hazuki."

Kumiko walked alone that night.

* * *

 _Two days,_ she thought on her way to the train station the next morning. _Just two days, and then we'll be at the Kansai competition and we'll hopefully make it to Nationals, and then maybe things will go back to normal._

"You're here early," Reina noted. Kumiko looked at her watch.

"This is when I usually get here." Reina blinked quickly, looking like she was trying to clear some thought from her mind.

"I'm focused on getting to-"

"Nationals, I know." The train arrived, and the two of them walked on in perfect sync. Reina clicked her tongue distastefully. "What's wrong?"

"The band's been out of focus," she said. "They're all putting too much pressure on themselves to do better because of the news about Taki-sensei, and it's making them sound forced and clunky."

"Isn't that what you're always doing?"

"What?"

"I mean, you always sound amazing, but aren't you usually playing for Taki-sensei? I thought that was what you wanted, to be special and all that, and h-he was the one who . . . inspired you, or whatever. You wanted a partner, right? I understand how that feels. He's leaving, it's scary. And you're always pushing yourself really hard anyway, it's kinda-"

"What do you know about what I want?" Reina's voice was sharpened steel, a blade pointed directly at Kumiko's throat and just starting to prick at the soft skin at its mercy. Nobody else was on the train.

"I wasn't . . . I just think you should m-maybe take a break or something, Kansai's two days away and everyone's doing pretty well, you'll be okay if you just take a few minutes to breathe or something like that."

"I'm breathing right now, aren't I?" Reina gripped the pole closest to her, refusing to sit down. Kumiko hadn't sat down either. "I told you that what I felt for Taki-sensei was something different altogether from what I felt for you, but that doesn't mean I don't still want to honor his wish."

"Right, right, you have to make it to Nationals." Kumiko tried to stop herself, tried to stop the words from bubbling in her throat and filling up the whole train car, but it was too late. "That's all you ever talk about, anyway. Nationals, Nationals, Taki-sensei, _Nationals!"_ Kumiko's voice felt hoarse, pained, and she put her hands on her knees to stop herself from collapsing to the cold metal floor. Reina looked to be staring down at her, a queen with a traitor to her land presented on a silver platter.

"And what about you, then?"

"Eh?"

"It's not like you ever quite noticed." Reina's violet eyes blazed. "Always running after trouble, trying to make everyone else's problems your own. It's not a nice way to live, if we're really going to criticize each others lifestyle."

"Reina, I-"

"You wanted to know what was going on, why I was acting like I did before that day in the nurse's office, but you never thought to just talk to me about it."

"I _did!_ I asked you and you made me wait for it, and it's not like I didn't have a good reason for waiting!"

"You were scared. That's not a _reason,_ Kumiko, it's a _motive._ We're all scared." Reina's voice seemed to soften just a bit before the blade was pointed at Kumiko once again. "I was _terrified._ I still am. I'm not going to let that stand in my way."

"Maybe if you put down the trumpet for _once_ and stopped letting your ambitions cloud everything, we could talk about it! And then you'd be less scared! Both of us would be!"

"I'm not letting anything stand in my way." Reina approached the doors as the train slowed to a halt. Kumiko could only walk in time with her in a painful sort of quietness, fearful and weary.

* * *

"The Kansai competition is in two days," Taki said at the end of practice that day as the band looked up at him with eager, sad expressions, like dogs begging for scraps. "I expect you all to do your best, and I truly do believe we can make it to Nationals."

"Make sure to get here early tomorrow," Yuuko chimed in.

"Yoshikawa-san, would you do the honors?" Taki asked. Yuuko blinked.

"What? Oh, right." She raised her fist halfheartedly, waiting for the rest of the band to do the same. _"Kitauji, fighto!"_

 _"Yeah!"_

Kumiko's eyes were only on the empty seat in the trumpet section.

* * *

The next day passed in a blur, the band already as frenzied as they would've been on the day of the competition. Kumiko dully forced her way through the practices, her eyes on the clock. She still walked home with Reina, waiting and waiting and waiting for her to say something, but not a single word was passed between them.

Kumiko took out her phone the night before the competition and started to type out a message, the words swimming in front of her eyes.

 **Kumiko: hey**

 **Kumiko: what do you do when you're not sure about anything?**

* * *

 **a/n:** the people hazuki mentions in the cupcake scene are all canon characters whose names are revealed in the booklets that come with the blurays, they all have really cute bios and yes this is me encouraging everyone to legally support the show and buy the blurays so that kyoani will have more of an incentive to make more hibike content

also there's gonna be some Prime Kumirei Angst™ next week so. yeah


	11. Fearful Orchestra

**a/n:** hoo boy things are Happening

also this chapter had the rikka kiddos because if there really is a rikka spinoff i'll need to know how to write them

* * *

 **The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.**

Kumiko slammed the phone down on her mattress in frustration.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she chastised herself. "Of course she would've changed her number after going to college, get a hold of yourself. The Kansai competition is tomorrow. You've got to focus." She propped up her cactus, wishing it would just respond for once. "We h-have to win gold. We have to make it to Nationals." A flock of birds rustled outside her window, flapping away as a murky black cloud. "We have to."

* * *

 _Reina had left for the school early, just as she had at the Kyoto competition - Kumiko dryly wondered if anyone would show up with bold declarations of fresh starts, or something equally self-centered._

 _"What's up with you today?" she muttered to herself. "Natsuki didn't do anything wrong. Or maybe she did. I don't know. When did this whole cynicism thing start?"_

 _ **Earlier than you'd have thought.** Kumiko jumped, and suddenly she wasn't approaching the school anymore - she was floating in a dark abyss with the cactus hovering a few feet above her. **You've never been the most optimistic one, I hope you know that.** Kumiko looked around, flailing her arms like she could propel herself out of this strange void._

 _"Is this a dream?" she whispered. Despite the king cactus and the black hole she'd seemed to find herself falling in, it didn't feel anything like a dream._

 _ **Have you figured out what they want?** the cactus asked, ignoring her question._

 _"Who?"_

 _ **Them.** Ghostly avatars of Natsuki and Hazuki and Reina popped up around her, pale blues and grays surrounding everything in her vision. Kumiko reached out for Reina, put a hand on her cheek gingerly as if she could breathe life into her, but she dissolved into mist. Hazuki and Natsuki soon followed, and the cactus had disappeared somewhere in the fog. Kumiko was alone. **Have you figured it out yet?**_

 _"Figured out_ what?" _She still couldn't see the cactus, but the swirling mist dragged itself away from the edges of her vision and curled into a figure she knew all too well._

 _ **Do you know what it is you want?**_

 _A few steps away, seeming to mock her with just how stupidly cliché it all was, stood an exact copy of herself._

"Gah!" Kumiko threw aside the books she'd fallen asleep on, looking out the window as she realized in horror that the sun was already glaring down on her. The cactus hadn't moved an inch. "I'm gonna be late, I'm gonna be late, I won't be able to make it in time and then we won't win gold and Reina won't get to see Taki-sensei have his wish granted and I won't be able to see _Reina_ see Taki-sensei have his wish granted and then . . . and then . . ."

"Kumiko? Kumiko, you should leave soon if you don't want to be late for your competition."

". . . she might not have any reason to stick around me anymore."

* * *

As it turned out, Reina had arrived at the train station at the same time Kumiko did.

"I thought you'd be here earlier," Kumiko muttered. The winter uniform felt stuffy and dusty, weighing her down, and from the way Reina tugged at her sleeves Kumiko thought that she probably felt the same way.

"I forgot to turn on my alarm." Reina looked exhausted.

"I dunno if I even thought about an alarm, I had some weird dream about . . . my cactus? And you were there, and Natsuki, and Hazuki, and . . . me."

"I shouldn't have said what I did the other day," Reina said. It sounded sluggish, when she spoke, and Kumiko somehow doubted that she'd even remember much of this conversation, like how one wakes up in the middle of the night and only remembers it as a part of their dreams.

"Maybe that's not enough." Kumiko was surprised at her own words, too - she couldn't even stop herself.

"Good luck, Kumiko." The train arrived, blowing Reina's hair to the side.

"Y-you too."

Reina fell asleep about halfway through the ride, and when she woke up, Kumiko could tell from her expression that she didn't remember a single thing.

* * *

Kumiko was surprised to see Natsuki directing the band when she arrived, bossing around anyone who lounged in a corner for too long as students hurried out of the classroom with instruments in their arms.

"Hey, _hey,_ be careful with those drums! They're expensive, y'know. I've seen more of the band's financials than you, so you'd better believe me when I say that you _can't_ afford to be sloppy with 'em, and-"

"Natsuki?"

"Oh, hey. I was left in charge while Madam President ran over some things with Taki, so here I am. Yelling at everyone. Fun." Reina had already disappeared into the crowd. "You'd better do your best at the competition. I know I'll be."

"I'll t-try." Kumiko paused. "Hey, Natsuki?"

"Yeah?"

"I used to wonder a lot whether or not people played for other people and if that was important. D-did you ever do that? Do you play with someone in mind?" Kumiko still searched the crowd for Reina, desperately wishing already that she'd said more at the train station, even when she hadn't remembered anything as it was. Natsuki let out a long groan in response.

"Well . . . I used to? I mean, seeing Nozomi and Mizore always doing everything for each other - even _now,_ with Nozomi playing in the competition while Mizore sits on the sidelines - I guess I just figured that was what you were supposed to do. It worked, anyhow. I'm still pretty sure that I lo- _hey,_ that's not your bassoon! God, it's like herding cats."

"Natsuki?"

"Right, right. Listen, I know that look you've got right now. It's the 'I'm-an-anxious-teenager-who-doesn't-want-a-broken-heart' look. It doesn't suit ya, in my opinion, but that's beside the point. The point is that you're . . . kind of good at communication? Kousaka's not that good at it, but she does have a habit of blurting out weird stuff, so that works just as well. It's a bump. Every relationship has 'em. You just have to figure out if it's something that you'll get past, or something that'll stop you both entirely." Natsuki looked down at the linoleum floor. "I hope for your sake that it's the first one."

* * *

The bus ride was tense and silent, Reina engrossed entirely in her phone while Kumiko watched the countryside roll by with sleepy eyes.

"We're almost here!" Yuuko squawked from the front of the bus. Her ribbon was lower than usual, no longer flapping upright like a pair of rabbit ears but instead hanging behind her head. "Get your stuff and hurry up, we'll be on soon after we get inside!" The band immediately took to mumbling amongst themselves, gathering their things as the bus rolled into the parking lot. It was nearly full, Kumiko idly realized. "I don't have time for a speech, neither does Taki-sensei, but do your best and all that. I don't have any doubt that we'll win gold. Both here and at Nationals." She cleared her throat. "Now, let's get going, we don't have all day."

"She's pretty damn eloquent when she wants to be," Natsuki said. Kumiko blinked.

"I guess, yeah." Half of the band was scrambling for the door as soon as the bus stopped.

"Well, anyway, it's like she said. We have to make it there on time."

* * *

Kumiko could feel her heart rattling in her chest as instruments were tuned and last-minute fears were quietly voiced. Reina didn't talk to her, didn't even look at her, and perhaps that was what hurt the most of all.

"Hey, Kumiko!" Kumiko was jostled from her thoughts by Hazuki eagerly popping up beside her. "Good luck! Gotou-senpai's giving us his regards, I wish he'd been able to play here too." Kumiko looked over at the Team Monaka 2.0 members, milling around awkwardly and standing out in their white-and-blue uniforms. Nozomi held Mizore gently, as if she were a glass figurine come to life, and kissed her gingerly on the cheek. Kumiko couldn't help but be reminded of fairy tales where the princess was awoken from a magical slumber with true love's kiss, though as for who was the princess and who was the savior, she had no idea.

"You too, Hazuki."

* * *

The curtain rose, the music began, but Kumiko could hardly feel anything as she hit the notes. It felt like playing a rhythm game - robotic, soulless, dim. All she had to do was time her notes, breathe at the right time, do what was written on the sheet music hidden beneath tacked-on photographs. She could hear Reina, too, and she took a bitter kind of solace in the fact that her music sounded just as cold. The rest of the band drowned the two of them out, however, and Kumiko stood up to thunderous applause.

* * *

"Where's Kousaka-san?" Hazuki wondered to Kumiko's left. Midori sat on her right, though anyone looking up at the row of seats would've thought it was empty - she was hunched over with her hands clasped together as she whispered hopes under her breath, looking even tinier than usual.

"I t-think she decided to hide- go outside again. I'll tell her if we win."

"What if we don't?" Hazuki murmured. Midori shot up.

"You can't say that!" she snapped. Kumiko thought that she looked like an old cartoon character might, her round eyebrows pushed downwards in anger. "We have to win, Hazuki-chan! Don't you get that? Not just for the band, but for Kumiko-chan and Kousaka-san, too! And for Taki-sensei, and for everyone who graduated and didn't get to see this, and . . ." Midori's chatter faded into the background as the banner was unfurled, _Kitauji High School_ written clear as day in gold lettering.

"Gold!" Kumiko gasped. Midori stopped talking, her mouth hanging open. Hazuki started breathing at a pace that couldn't have been healthy.

"And now, the schools that will be proceeding to the national competition . . ." Kumiko could hardly breathe, looking around wildly for Reina, trying to catch even a glimpse of her if she wasn't hiding somewhere, and she nearly missed _Kitauji High School_ rolling off the announcer's lips.

"We're going to Nationals!" Natsuki cheered, looping her arms around Hazuki and Kumiko with a grin. She looked practically drunk with happiness. Kumiko saw Reina standing in the risers above her, turning away as soon as their eyes met.

"Nationals! Nationals! Nationals!" Hazuki and Midori cheered, but all Kumiko could feel was a deep illness in her stomach, and she eventually ducked out of the celebrating huddle to find the bathroom, to find the exit, to find _somewhere_ where she could quit feeling this lousy and tired.

* * *

After a solid fifteen minutes of searching - hordes of high school bands not unlike her own were already swarming the hallways either in excitement or in mourning - Kumiko finally managed to find solace in a quiet corner, wrapping herself in the fetal position in hopes that nobody would find her.

Hardly a second after she sat down, however, a petite shadow started to loom over her.

 _So much for that,_ she thought, and looked up to see a powder-blue uniform and a pair of kind eyes staring down at her.

"Kumiko?" Azusa tilted her head to the side curiously. "Why aren't you celebrating with your friends? I saw the one with the barrette carrying the vice president around on her shoulders a few minutes ago, you could probably catch up to them if you want."

"I'm just, uh, kind of in awe over all of this." Kumiko nervously ran a hand through her hair, staring up at the glaring hallway lights until purple-and-black dots danced in front of her eyes.

"Tell me about it!" Azusa laughed, plopping down next to her. "We only got silver for the second year in a row, while Kitauji's making it to Nationals _again!_ That new advisor must really being doing wonders for you guys, huh?"

"Y-yeah."

"It's weird, how fast these things can flip on their head." Azusa's eyes were glued to the floor. "I went to Rikka just for the music, because I wanted a shot at Nationals, because this is what I loved, but we haven't made it past Kansai for both years I've been here, while a place like Kitauji wins gold left and right. It's . . . unpredictable. Weird."

"I know how that feels." Kumiko tugged her sock up her leg, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable wrinkling feeling beneath her feet. "B-but you should be with your team. They'll be missing you."

"I should say the same thing to you," Azusa teased. Another shadow appeared over the two. "Oh, hey, I nearly forgot! Kumiko, this is Amika. She goes to Rikka with me." With the lovestruck eyes the two seemed to be casting at other, Kumiko suspected that there might be more to it than that, but she kept her mouth shut. "Amika, this is Kumiko. We used to go to middle school together. Her school won gold."

"Congratulations," Amika said, extending a hand. Kumiko reached out to shake it, and Amika promptly pulled her up. "If things go well, maybe we'll see each other next year."

"Yep, w-well, it was nice to see you both, but I really need to go now! Bye!" Kumiko staggered away, leaving Amika and Azusa in the dust, her breathing uneven. She didn't bother looking for Reina this time, instead making a beeline for Natsuki as soon as she realized she was alone, too.

"Kumiko? Katou's waiting for-" Kumiko collapsed in her arms before she could finish her sentence, holding her like she'd be able to keep the world at bay for just a moment. "Hey, hey, it's alright. It's alright, you'll be alright." Natsuki rubbed her back as Kumiko started to cry for the first time in weeks, letting herself sob onto Natsuki's shoulder, staining her uniform a darker brown as the lights of the auditorium faded. The people around her celebrated, the world acted happy, and still Kumiko cried until she didn't have any tears left, and only then did she break away from Natsuki's soft embrace.

"Nakagawa-senpai?" Momo popped up next to her, still staring up at her with round, eager eyes. "Taki-sensei wants to you to make a speech."

"Rights yeah, I'll be there in a minute." Natsuki turned her attention back to Kumiko. "You'll be okay?" Kumiko sniffed and nodded.

"Y-yeah. Go make your speech." Natsuki gave her one last quick hug before rejoining the crowd.

"She's pretty amazing, huh?" Momo whispered. "Are you two . . . ?"

"No, no, of course not. I just . . . trust her, I guess. She's a good shoulder to lean on. You have a good taste in crushes, Momo. Don't change that, okay? I'm s-sure you'll find someone who really loves you soon enough."

"Woohoo, Natsuki-senpai!" Hazuki cheered from somewhere in the back.

"Besides, I think she has a few people lined up already."

"What about you, then?" Momo adjusted her glasses as Natsuki walked to the front. "Do you have anyone special?" Kumiko gave a dry chuckle at the irony of Momo's word choice.

"She's . . . busy with other stuff right now. We haven't talked much in the past few days. I don't really expect that to change between now and Nationals." She took a deep breath. "A-and that's fine."

"So, I'm not that great at speeches, and I guess the prez is too busy to say anything, but . . . good job, everyone. We're gonna go to Nationals, and we'll win gold there, alright?"

 _"Yeah!"_

"We'll make Taki-sensei proud, alright?"

 _"Yeah!"_

"We'll all do our best, alright?" Yuuko folded her arms, scuffing her shoes o the floor. She didn't seem to be doing anything in particular.

 _"Yeah!"_

"Now, let's head off to the buses. There's still a lot of work to be done."

* * *

Kumiko tried her hardest to fall asleep on the bus, to slip away into dreamland, but sleep evaded her, and so she was left to watch the golden sunset with Hazuki chatting her ear off in the seat next to her, sounding like she was a million miles away.

* * *

The band started to gather up their things after the bus stopped, excited chatter of congratulations filling up the parking lot and the school until Kumiko thought she might never want to hear the word _Nationals_ again. She was just about to head home when Reina stopped her in her tracks.

"R-Reina?" Kumiko could've hugged the other girl even for just checking on her, but Reina remained as steely-faced as she'd been when Kumiko first met her.

"Good luck," she said, and walked away. "At Nationals, I mean."

"Reina, wait!" Reina didn't stop walking. "Can we j-just talk? Please?" Reina paused for just a few seconds, and Kumiko could imagine the cold expression in her eyes even with her back to her.

"I don't know what we're supposed to say." Her trumpet case still had that new, pristine shine to it, even after nearly two months. _"Oumae-san."_

* * *

 **Kumiko: hazuki?**

 **Kumiko: are you up?**

 **Hazuki: how could i not be?**

 **Hazuki: im too excited to sleep!**

 **Hazuki: were going to the nationals!**

 **Hazuki: and i want to win this time**

 **Hazuki: with you and midori and kousaka-san and natsuki-senpai and everyone!**

 **Hazuki: then well all be happy together**

 **Hazuki: smiling with that big trophy**

 **Hazuki: i cant imagine anything better than that**

Kumiko's lips crackled into a smile, despite the way her heart still felt sunken in her chest and every message she had sent to Reina was left on _delivered._

 **Hazuki: oh yeah i almost forgot!**

 **Hazuki: natsuki-senpai offered to take me out to the mall next weekend**

 **Hazuki: were gonna "talk about stuff"**

 **Hazuki: i wonder what that means**

 **Kumiko: hazuki**

 **Kumiko: hazuki she's asking you out on a date**

 **Hazuki: pssh**

 **Hazuki: of course shes not**

Natsuki's sad, warm eyes flashed through Kumiko's mind again.

 _It's only been two months since that argument. She can't have gotten over Yuuko that quickly._

 **Kumiko: i don't really know, to be honest**

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a haze, the humidity of mid-summer doing nothing to help Kumiko's state.

 _"Oumae-san."_

She went to practice, sat through classes when they resumed, but all she could think of was Reina, Reina, _Reina._

 _"Oumae-san."_

The presents - and their attached notes - had stopped coming.

 _"Oumae-san."_

Kumiko hated to be so cliché as to hinge all her feelings on a girl, but the days felt damp and dreary without her, and yet Nationals crept closer and closer and so she dug herself deeper into preparations, just as Yuuko had done after that argument, just as Reina had been doing since before she met her.

* * *

It was late on a Sunday night when Kumiko's phone started beeping. She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes, but she couldn't find the lights for the life of her. The phone's screen glowed a fuzzy white in front of her, and she eventually fumbled for the answer button.

"W-who's calling?" she yawned.

 _"Kumiko!"_ Riko chirped gleefully. _"We weren't sure if this was still your number, you haven't been answering any of our texts lately!"_

"What's going on?"

 _"It's a celebration for the brass section!"_ Momo butted in. _"That's what it is, right, Nakagawa-senpai?"_

 _"Yep,"_ Natsuki confirmed wearily. _"We're down by the fast food place. It was kind of an impromptu thing, so I get it if ya can't come, but-"_

"I'd love to," Kumiko said before her brain could have a say in the matter, speaking all in one breath, already getting up and pulling on a jacket. "I'll be down there in twenty minutes."

 _"It's dark out, so watch out for strangers!"_ Hazuki added.

 _"She knows well enough not to engage with strangers at any time,"_ Gotou grumbled in the background.

 _"Can someone really walk here in twenty minutes?"_ Midori wondered. Kumiko stopped the call and headed out the door with nothing but her phone and a bit of spare change in her pocket.

* * *

Kumiko had never quite considered the strange creature her own hometown became during the hours of the night - streetlights blinked like they held fairies in their glass casings, stores dimmed for the night while drunks and college students stumbled around with whoops of pleasure. It was another world altogether, one that she didn't feel much like a part of. She was relieved, then, to see a familiar crowd pressure up against the window of the only still-open place on the whole street. Natsuki noticed her first, standing up and waving eagerly with her trademark grin. Hazuki soon followed, and then Midori, before everyone was calling her over and there was a warmth in her chest she hadn't felt in a while.

"H-hey!" she called out shakily once she'd entered the building.

"Gotou here bet me dinner that you wouldn't show up," Riko whispered with a smirk, prodding the boyfriend in question. "We're going to my favorite restaurant tomorrow, so I should thank you for coming."

"Glad ya could make it," Natsuki said, with a look in her eyes that betrayed the real reason she'd called her here.

"We ordered for you," Momo piped up. "Katou-senpai couldn't wait twenty minutes for the food." Hazuki flushed red.

"I just didn't want any of you guys to wait!" she yelped. Midori slid to her side with raised eyebrows.

 _"Sure."_

"Anyway, the food'll be here in a few minutes." Natsuki twirled a strand of hair around her finger, looking up at the clock pegged to the wall. "I wonder why Asuka-senpai never hosted this kind of thing."

"Hey, it was _your_ idea, not hers," Hazuki pointed out.

"You can do things she never did, y'know," Kumiko softly murmured. Natsuki stopped watching the clock and turned to her. "Y-you're not Asuka-senpai. None of us are. She's . . . she's _gone,_ and things are different now, and we just have to accept that." Kumiko rapidly blinked back tears. "Things change. You all know that, r-right?" Hazuki and Midori exchanged nervous looks. Momo, oddly enough, was the one to break the silence.

"Of course I know that!" she said. "I never knew Asuka-senpai, but she must've been pretty amazing. Still, if she never left, Nakagawa-senpai wouldn't be the vice president, and we wouldn't all be sitting here together!" Momo slowly took off her glasses and smiled widely, the very picture of innocence. Kumiko tried to ignore the overwhelming, contrasting feelings that started to crowd her mind - gratitude, sympathy, _jealousy_ \- but they cluttered her brain and coiled themselves around it like vines.

"Momo's right!" Hazuki chirped, putting her arms around Natsuki and Momo fondly. "I miss Asuka-senpai too, you know, even though she scared me a lot sometimes, but do you guys really think she would've been happy with this little pity-party we're throwing ourselves in her name here? We're going to the _Nationals,_ people!"

"We should be celebrating in her memory!" Midori squeaked, slamming her hands down on the table and standing on her seat so that she towered just a little bit over everyone sitting down.

"Yeah!" Gotou and Riko agreed. Kumiko felt like she would throw up if she stayed here for more than a few more minutes, her stomach performing acrobatics, whole her breaths became short and fast.

"She's not dead," she forced out. "She's not-"

 _"Oumae-san."_

She thought of Reina again, of the way she'd staunchly refused to talk about the argument on the train or what her feelings meant or how far her ambitions could stretch. She thought of the cold uttering of her name that had clanged in her memory like the world's biggest bell. She thought of the same girl holding her face and making her promise she'd never abandon her, and she understood.

She understood it all.

"We have to win the Nationals for her, and for everyone else who couldn't be here for it!" Hazuki cheered. Natsuki didn't say a word.

Asuka wasn't dead, but she might as well have been.

"For Asuka-senpai!" Midori raised a glass of water with vigor, and the rest of the band followed.

She wasn't there anymore.

"For Asuka-senpai!" everyone else echoed, everyone but Kumiko and Natsuki.

Things had changed, irreversibly, because of the stupidity of time and the unending pull of ambition, and Kumiko gulped down her water as fast as she could to stop the tears from falling, to swallow back the lump in her throat.

"Hey, our food's here," Natsuki pointed out, quite bluntly, without any of the same excitement everyone else seemed to share. Kumiko tried to calm her breathing, but to no avail.

She wasn't thinking about Asuka anymore.

"I h-have to leave," she blurted out, fast and raspy, standing up and already hobbling away. "Right now, I have to leave- this was really nice, it means everything to me t-that you did it at all, but I need to go. I'll see you all tomorrow." Nobody moved as Kumiko ran outside, pressing herself up against the cold brick wall. It was damp, uncomfortable to the touch, but she couldn't have cared less as she slid down to the sidewalk and let the tears drip onto the pavement.

 _The movies make it seem like you'd go through one big breakdown, let everything pour out until you feel hollow,_ she thought. Her cheeks felt as damp as the bricks on the wall. _One big emotional moment, and then it's done._ Natsuki stood up from her spot at the table and looked out the window with sympathy in her eyes. _That's not how it works in real life._ Kumiko curled into a ball as sobs racked her body until she was shivering. _It just keeps on hurting._

* * *

"H-hey, Mom?" Kumiko cautiously crept back inside, hoping that the dim lighting of the apartment would hide her pink cheeks and puffy eyes. "Did any packages show up?"

"This late at night? Of course not." Kumiko looked down at the smooth wooden floorboards, the patterns she'd known ever since she was little, and slunk back into her room.

"P-please," she whimpered to the window, as if the caretaker could hear her if she just begged pitifully enough. "Comfort me. Tell me it's gonna be okay. I can't do this." Her knees grazed the floor, rubbed up against it and almost certainly leaving burns. She reached out with a trembling hand, and tears she thought had long since subsided fell onto the carpet. "I don't know what to do."

* * *

Weeks and weeks and weeks passed until the Nationals were just nine days away. Reina hadn't become any less cryptic, the band's morale hadn't shifted a bit, and Taki just kept on conducting them as if they weren't about to perform his last chance at granting the wish of his dead wife.

"You'll all need to be ready to head out next Friday," he said, when everyone's calendars had just a few dates left before the one circled in red pen. "I don't know if you'll believe me if I say that you've all truly improved, but I'm speaking with every ounce of truth in my heart. It's been an honor to work with you for these past two years, and I doubt we'll return home with anything less than gold." Kumiko looked to Reina, but she simply stared ahead. Taki took off his glasses for a moment to wipe his eyes before putting them back on again, taking a shuddering breath. "You're dismissed."

* * *

"Can you believe it?" Hazuki sighed dreamily, skipping along the sidewalk even with the heavy tuba case on her back. "The Nationals! And I'll be playing right there with you guys!"

"That's g-great, Hazuki," Kumiko muttered. She felt a thousand miles away. Reina walked beside her wordlessly, silent and unsettling, every bit the snow spirit that Kumiko had likened her to that night on the mountain - so far away, now.

"What about you, Kousaka-san?" Hazuki adjusted the rainbow backpack tucked under her arm. Kumiko thought it was a wonder she didn't tip over.

"We should all do our best," Reina said, in a voice that reminded Kumiko of a robot. "Taki-sensei has done everything he can. It's up to us now."

"Oh, I get it!" Hazuki smacked her fist into her palm. "He can only do so much, right? He's not a god! That's why I brought Tubacabra home with me! I want to win gold there. I want to stand up there with Natsuki-senpai holding that trophy, with everyone smiling. That's what you want, too, isn't it?"

"I want to become special," Reina said. "That's all." She walked ahead a few paces, and as Hazuki left for her train, Kumiko realized she was alone again.

* * *

Kumiko made it to the station with time to spare the next morning, though she felt exhausted, and she didn't even have the energy to exchange pleasantries with Reina. It wasn't as if she'd respond with anything but distance, in any case.

* * *

There was an uneasiness in the air, Kumiko thought as she approached Kitauji's familiar campus. Something was going to happen. Perhaps it already had. She went through the motions during the day, taking notes in her classes while her mind was swept up with thoughts of the Nationals and of Reina, until practice had finally started.

Or, it would have started, if there had been a teacher to instruct them.

"Where _is_ he?" Momo whined after fifteen minutes of practice-less practice. "You're the vice president, Nakagawa-senpai, can't you do something?"

"I'd ask the prez, but we sort of . . . agreed to block each other's numbers. It was a mutual thing." Natsuki flicked through the pages of her sheet music. "Don't worry, alright? I'm sure he's just stuck in traffic."

* * *

Another hour passed, and the students grew more and more restless. Hazuki fidgeted in her seat while Midori took to practicing on her own, and Reina left for ten minutes and then returned without a word. Kumiko was just about to head home when the door was slammed open and Yuuko burst in, coated in sweat and gasping for breath.

"Taki-sensei's in the hospital!"

* * *

 **a/n:** aND SO THE NEXT PIECE BEGINS


	12. Don't Worry, Euphonium

**a/n:** so how did you all like that cliffhanger huh

i've been waiting to show the last part of this chapter for a long time - turn on "unmei no nagare" from the s1 soundtrack when kumiko runs into a certain someone close to the end

* * *

"The front office got a call and they paged me over there and he's being taken care of, they think he fell down some stairs or something, but he's conscious."

"Is he gonna die?" a first-year whimpered.

"They would've sounded a bit more worried if he was dying," Yuuko deadpanned, but Kumiko could see the sweat trickling down her brow. Reina remained as still as a mannequin, her face carefully blank. "I'll try to figure out a way for everyone here to get to him soon enough. You're all dismissed." Yuuko walked out the door with her back hunched.

* * *

Kumiko had grown used to tuning out the less-important parts of Hazuki's ramblings, but today she found herself hanging onto every word. Reina was nowhere to be seen, having left before Kumiko could catch up to her, and Midori had volunteered to stay behind and help clean up, so it was just Kumiko and Hazuki and the full moon dangling in the sky above them.

"What if she lied and he's actually _dead?"_ Hazuki fretted, gnawing on her nails until they started bleeding. "Or what if he hit his head and can't remember anything about us?" Kumiko tactfully decided not to mention that she had already run through all of these options in her head at least three times over. Hazuki kept on gnawing on her nails. "Who's gonna take us to the Nationals now?" Kumiko turned around slowly, unsure if she'd heard her right.

"T-that's what you're worried about?" she whispered in hoarse disbelief. "The _Nationals?"_ Hazuki blinked.

"Well, yeah. He doesn't exactly have an understudy, right?"

"Taki-sensei might be _dying_ right now and you're worried about the _Nationals?"_ Hazuki's hands fell to her sides.

"I said that wrong, I guess." She sounded oddly sheepish, laughing at herself like she'd just made a bad joke. "It's his last year. I don't know him that well, but isn't it . . . isn't it his _wish_ or something, to win gold there?" Kumiko thought about that morning by the waterfall - an eternity ago, now - and she squeezed her eyes shut to stop them from leaking.

"Y-yeah," she murmured. "I guess it is."

* * *

 **Kumiko: hey**

 **Kumiko: reina**

 **Kumiko: are you okay?**

Kumiko wrapped herself in bedsheets, eyeing the phone for any kind of response, anything at all, but it refused to follow her will. Eventually, she grew restless and slid down from her bed to face the round cactus that seemed to taunt her with its expressionless form.

"Okay," she began, sitting cross-legged in front of it. "What's your problem? I dated Reina for l-like, a day and a half, and then everything started to just be _awful_ for no reason? Is there some kind of rule against letting me be happy for that long? I just wanted to play in the Nationals with everybody- I wanted to improve."

She half-expected it to speak in that booming voice she'd heard in her dreams, but the only sounds in her room were the rattling of the windows and the whir of the air conditioning. "If I c-could just . . . find some way to _fix_ things, maybe we could really make it through this year, b-but nothing's making sense and it just feels like a landslide or something like that." The silence was deafening. "I don't even really know why I'm talking to you about this, it's not like you'd be able to say anything back. You're like a brick wall."

The cactus seemed to watch her as she reluctantly clambered back into bed, and she thought of Reina's satin sheets and glowing plastic stars with a pang.

 _When did I start to miss her?_

* * *

The sky was a damp gray when Kumiko stepped outside the next morning, and she tentatively opened up her umbrella. The air was humid, thick, tasting of old rain and sulfur on the roads.

 _Eight days,_ she thought to herself, taking a bite of her toast. _I wonder what'll happen during practice._ The walk to the train station felt longer than usual, but she chalked it up to the weather and the nerves - there hadn't been any news about Taki, not even an email. It was unnerving, to say the least, and it felt like the end of a marathon when the trains finally started to come into view.

"You're here," Reina said bluntly. "I wasn't expecting you to show up so early."

"W-what do you mean?" Kumiko tried to calm her stutter, but her tongue stuck to the wrong parts of her mouth and her heart started thumping once again.

"There isn't anyone to open up the instrument storage." A train whipped by without even stopping, sending winds in Kumiko and Reina's direction. "I just came to speak to one of my teachers about some homework."

"Oh." Kumiko wrung her hands nervously. "A-are you . . . okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Kumiko didn't try to talk after that, letting the silence wedge itself between the two of them as it always seemed to do these days.

* * *

"I tried calling the school, but nobody would tell me what happened!" Hazuki was rocking back and forth on her chair as Midori tried in vain to comfort her when Kumiko entered.

"They probably just aren't allowed," Midori said, her voice oddly calm. "I mean, you probably wouldn't tell a kid you didn't really know that well about why someone's in the hospital, and the school's really big! They might not even _know_ what happened to him!" Hazuki smiled shakily.

"I guess you're right." She looked up, seeming to notice Kumiko for the first time. "Oh, hey!" Kumiko sat down, waving limply back. "I hope Yoshikawa-senpai figured out some way to get us all there."

"To the hospital, you mean?" Kumiko asked. Hazuki nodded eagerly.

"Taki-sensei's probably really lonely there, we should show him that we still care about him! I mean, he acts a lot like our dad anyway, and you wouldn't just leave your dad alone in the hospital, right?"

"Yeah." Kumiko gripped her desk, as if she might fall from the room and fly out into the sky if she let go. "You've got a point there."

* * *

Kumiko tried her hardest to keep up appearances thought the day, hiding the way her stomach was doing acrobatics every few seconds and making her want to throw up, the way the world was spinning just a bit too fast, but she was grateful for the beginning of practice in any case. Yuuko paced the front of the room with a baton clenched in one pale fist behind her back while her other hand rested on her chin.

"Is everyone here?" she asked. Sixty students nodded. "Could someone get the B-team, too? Taki-sensei's their teacher just as much as he's ours." Hazuki jumped at the opportunity and bounded out the door. "Matsumoto-sensei said she'd be here soon, so I'll make this quick. Taki-sensei's checked in at a nearby hospital, maybe ten minutes of a drive if we break a few speeding laws. He's in stable condition, but . . ." Yuuko trailed off. Natsuki, sitting beside Kumiko as she always did, began to stand up and then sat down in the same breath.

"But what?" Reina said, her gaze steely. Yuuko gulped.

"He broke an arm and a leg. There's no way he'll be able to return for the Nationals, maybe not even for the rest of the year." Reina set down her trumpet and started for the door, her shoes _clip-clopping_ as we did so.

"Oi, Kousaka!" Natsuki yelled after her. "Where're ya going?"

"I'm visiting Taki-sensei," Reina said simply.

"Not without the rest of us, you're not," Yuuko growled. "Who here can drive?" A few third-years raised their hands nervously. "Who here has a car with them?" A smaller amount of third-years raised their hands. "Alright, then. Group up into your sections, fit as many people as you can into your cars or trucks or whatever it is-" Kumiko saw Yuuko sneak a glance at Natsuki on _trucks_ "-and set a course for the local hospital. We're going on a field trip."

"I think that sounded more badass in her head," Momo snickered. Kumiko didn't respond, following Natsuki down to the parking lot with her heart thumping against her ribcage.

* * *

The car ride was cramped and awkward, and Kumiko stared intently at Natsuki's fuzzy dice until the hospital came into view.

"Stay calm, okay?" Natsuki jostled the door until it swung open, and she hopped out followed by Kumiko, the rest of the brass section, and one somewhat confused percussionist. "It's gonna be weird. You can't let him know that it's weird."

"Yes, ma'am!" the small crowd barked. Natsuki blinked in surprise.

"Uh, ya don't have to do that with me."

"Sure we do!" Momo piped up.

"Hmm?"

"Nakagawa-senpai, you're just as much of a leader as the president is, so why wouldn't you take charge just like her?" Hazuki nodded in eager agreement. Natsuki scratched the back of her neck with a sheepish grin.

"Anyway, we'd better get in there before the teachers realize we're not at school and call our parents or something." Natsuki strutted ahead with Momo on her heels like an excited puppy.

"What a girl," Hazuki swooned, clutching her backpack to her chest. Kumiko stifled a chuckle.

* * *

The crowd of students stood in front of one very confused-looking receptionist.

"Did you all, erm, need to go somewhere?" she asked. "Are you tourists? Are you lost?"

"We're looking for Noboru Taki," a flutist piped up.

"Well, you'll have to-" Yuuko stepped forward with her chest puffed out.

"Excuse me, _ma'am,_ but we're Ta- _Noboru's_ . . . uh . . . cousins." The receptionist raised an eyebrow.

"All of you?"

"He has a big family that cares about him!" Hazuki yelled from the back. Reina looked to her for a moment, eyes wide, before turning her attention back to the receptionist. "He's gotta know that we want him to get better!" The receptionist sighed deeply before her fingers clipped away at the keyboard and she spoke again.

"You'll find him in room 214."

* * *

"Two at a time," the closest nurse said as soon as the crowd made their way to the room that held Taki inside. "He's still recovering." Reina tentatively pushed open the door, and Kumiko found herself being pushed forward to stand right beside her. The door creaked open.

"Taki-sensei?" Reina whispered. The teacher laid still in the white hospital bed, his glasses cracked and sitting beside him, his chest slowly rising and falling. Reina held her hands to her mouth. Taki opened one eye and weakly beckoned for the two of them to come over, a weak smile spreading across his face.

"Kousaka-san?" he murmured.

"I'm here, Taki-sensei, I'm here." Taki sat up as much as he could, which wasn't much, reaching out a hand to rest on Reina's shoulder.

"You've grown so much." Kumiko shifted from foot to foot. "I'm so proud of you- of all of you." Reina knelt down. "I know you'll win gold at Nationals. You'll all be wonderful."

"I promise," Reina said. Taki smiled again, resting back on his limp pillow.

"I'm glad." Taki closed his eyes, and Kumiko could nearly see the scene play out before it happened. He looked younger than he had while in front of the band, the expression of a young man at rest staring both girls in the face.

"Is he d-dying?" Kumiko asked the nurse, refusing to take her eyes of off Reina. She reached out a hand to comfort her, but Reina swatted it away.

"He'll be fine," the nurse said pleasantly. Reina started to tremble.

"Taki-sensei!" Her voice was hoarse, the mask beginning to crack as she shook Taki back and forth. "Wake up! You have to take us to the Nationals, you have to see your wish granted! We can't do this without you!"

"Miss, please-"

"We need you!" Reina was in hysterics, now, tears pouring down her face and falling onto the bedsheets. Kumiko tried to pull her away. "Don't leave us, god, _please!"_

"Reina!" Kumiko couldn't keep a hold on her arm for more than a few seconds before she rushed back to the bed again. "Taki-sensei's going to be fine, he just can't-"

"Stop!" Reina snarled. "Just _stop!"_ Kumiko flinched. The nurse lifted Reina up and started to carry her out of the room as she continued to scream, eventually fading to a whimper when she was deposited onto the floor. Her hair was plastered to her cheeks, still shaking. "I'm sorry."

Kumiko didn't know for the life of her who she was talking to.

* * *

Hazuki was the only one to talk on the ride back, snapping her barrette back and forth rhythmically.

"You've got a nice truck, Natsuki-senpai," she noted. "Is it because you're gay? I mean, is that why you have the truck? I don't mean to be rude, of course, but-" Midori patted her on the leg, a quiet signal of _stop._ "Anyway, do you have a girlfriend right now? This seems like a nice truck to take people around in, you'd get to look at the stars and stuff!" Kumiko pretended not to notice the dusty cloth that looked uncannily ribbon-like resting at her feet. "Oh, and then you'd snuggle and-"

"We're here," Natsuki grunted.

* * *

The band milled around in awkward silence when they arrived back on Kitauji's campus.

"What now?" Gotou asked. Midori, as it turned out, was the one to break the quiet after that.

"We can't just let Taki-sensei's wish go to waste, can we?" she squeaked. Hazuki helped her climb onto a nearby desk while Reina watched in bewilderment. "All we need is a conductor! He's led us this far, it's up to us now! Right?" A few mumbles of _"I guess"_ and _"yeah"_ could be heard.

"Who'd be our conductor, though?" Nozomi called out. "Is there anyone who actually knows how to do that?" The room fell back into silence, until Natsuki raised her hand.

"Yuuko can do it." Yuuko spat out her water in response.

 _"What?!"_

"You've taken Taki-sensei's place before during practices. You know the piece better than anyone." Natsuki was just a foot away from her, now, and she jammed her hands in her pockets. Yuuko stiffened.

"I can't do it, though! I just _can't!"_ Natsuki took a deep breath.

"Listen, I'm not saying this as your ex, or as your vice president, or even as your _friend._ I'm saying this as someone who loves this band and wants to see it win gold before I leave." Yuuko looked away for a moment. Kumiko could see her hand clenched into a white-knuckled fist. "I'm hoping that'll get through to ya, but I'm sure well be able to figure something out if you can't do it."

"Fine," she growled. "I'm not doing it for you, either."

"There's going to be an extra spot now!" Hazuki realized out loud. Yuuko headed to the front of the room, straightening her back.

"Oboe," she said, speaking like it was a command, her voice formidable in a way that Kumiko hadn't expected. Mizore looked up. "You'd better do your best up there."

"I will," Mizore whispered, and Kumiko caught sight of her hand intertwined with Nozomi's.

"I can't believe I'm doing this, but . . . _Kitauji, fighto!"_

 _"Yeah!"_

* * *

The weather was cold that night, Kumiko noticed as she walked home alone. Her phone buzzed, and she wouldn't have noticed it if not for how the vibrations jostled Tuba-kun and Eupho-kun from their spot on her bag.

 **Natsuki: hey**

 **Natsuki: meet me at the train station**

 **Natsuki: i kinda want to show you something**

Kumiko shrugged and did as the text said, and sure enough, Natsuki stood where she'd promised, waiting, with a jacket hanging from her shoulders and a beanie perched on her head.

"What'd you w-want to show me?" She wasn't willing to admit that the station felt lonely without Reina there.

"I'd be running the surprise if I told ya," Natsuki responded, taking Kumiko by the hand and leading her away from the trains. Kumiko's cold-numbed fingers relaxed in Natsuki's glove as the two walked through the evening lights of the town, weaving their way around businesspeople on their ways home from work and students in identical uniforms. Natsuki didn't stop until she reached a park and flopped down, promptly, onto the damp grass.

"Uh-"

"What're you waiting for?" Natsuki patted the spot next to her. Kumiko awkwardly sat down, fidgeting as she did so. "Look up." She did, and the sight that greeted her was nearly too big for words. The sky was a bluish velvet, pegged with stars that glinted through the trees and the clouds.

"It's beautiful," Kumiko breathed. Natsuki smirked.

"I like to go here when crap gets too intense. I figured it'd do ya some good, what with everything happening right now. With Taki-sensei and-"

"I know." Kumiko hugged her arms close to her chest. "What you did earlier today was r-really brave, y'know." Natsuki scoffed as she fixed her beanie with a sheepish grin. Her hair had grown longer, starting to come closer to the bottom of her neck.

"I dunno where it came from, if ya want the truth." Natsuki let out a chortle. "I just . . . really like this band. I wouldn't have met you or Momo or anyone else if I'd just taken the easy route and joined some boring club without any hard work in it. Maybe it would've spared me some pain or whatever in the long run, but I think . . . I think I made the right choice." Kumiko fumbled for something, anything to say in response. She thought of Reina, of the cactus dreams and of arguments in the midst of practice and the way the year had thrown them all into this weird sort of turmoil.

"Natsuki?"

"Yeah?" The words formed themselves on Kumiko's tongue, telling her everything, but they tasted like bile in her throat, and she bit them back.

"It's nothing."

"If you say so." Natsuki hoisted herself up and reached out a hand to Kumiko, who took it gratefully. She smiled warmly as she walked away with her hands in her pockets and her head tilted up to the stars. "I'll be here when you need me."

* * *

Kumiko slept restlessly that night, Natsuki and Reina and Yuuko turning around in her head, a dreamless sleep that left her feeling more tired when she woke up than she'd been before going to bed.

* * *

The weekend was filled to the brim with fervent, hastily scheduled practices, seconds blurring into minutes and minutes blurring into hours until the day suddenly ended and the student conductor let everyone go.

"We'll still have our usual practices for the rest of the week," she said, twirling her baton around her fingers. Kumiko had to admit that she was good at it, her leadership shining through with an odd brilliance. "We're winning gold at Nationals, alright? We can't let Taki-sensei down. We can't let ourselves down, either. Everyone who's sitting here right now is here because they want this more than anything." Kumiko felt a queasiness in her throat. "So, push yourselves as hard as you can, because this is the final stretch."

* * *

Kumiko walked home with her euphonium strained on her back, and Hazuki walked beside her with the same weight hefted on top of the ever-present rainbow backpack.

"I wish I could take George-kun home with me," Midori moped.

"You'd probably get squashed," Hazuki said. "Then we wouldn't have a contrabass player in the Nationals at all." Midori narrowed her eyes, contemplating this for a moment.

"I guess you're right," she sighed. "It's still annoying, though! I want to do everything I can to win gold. This is our last chance, after all." Hazuki stopped dead in her tracks.

"Wait, Midori, are you . . . _graduating early?_ " Midori blinked curiously, looking uncannily like a newborn kitten.

"Why would you think that?"

"You just said it was our last chance! We're only second-years, we've still got another year. I'm just motivated to win because of Taki-sensei and . . . oh." Midori solemnly nodded. "What about you, Kumiko?"

"Eh?"

"You've been really quiet all day. It's freaking me out a little bit." Hazuki sidled up to her with a grin on her face, skipping over the weeds growing in the sidewalk to stand uncomfortably close. "Is there something you're keeping from us?"

"W-what? No, of course not, I'm just . . . worried, I guess. We have to win this." Her hand curled unconsciously into a fist until her fingernails dug into the calloused skin there. "We have to get gold."

* * *

Kumiko came home to a package wrapped not in the familiar tissue she'd grown to expect from the caretaker, but in crinkled wrapping paper that poked to be left over from last Christmas, tape loosely keeping the edges together.

 _To: Kumiko_

 _From: Mom_

 _Great job at the competition!_

 _I guess she forgot to hide it,_ she thought, and chuckled out loud.

* * *

Monday came with frantic excuses for late homework and disorganized notes, and Kumiko thought she might pass out by the end of the school day.

"I can't believe I'm actually excited to get bossed around by Yuuko," she sighed. Hazuki nodded in agreement.

"I got yelled at _three_ times today! I mean, she's probably going to yell at us too, but at least she can't give us grades."

"Y-yeah, and she's taken this really well, since-" Kumiko's mouth went dry. Reina stood by the door, her face gray and her eyes dim. She didn't move when the trio waited beside her.

"He-ey, Kousaka-san," Hazuki said nervously, her voice sliding on the _he-ey._ Reina didn't respond, didn't even flinch. Kumiko felt like she might vomit.

"The president'll probably be here soon," Midori squeaked. Reina stayed quiet. Kumiko pressed her palm against the cold wall beside her to keep herself from going numb. Yuuko sauntered down the hall, an angel in yellow ribbons, with the keys dangling from her pinkie finger. Kumiko almost wanted to thank her just for showing up, but she hurried to the conductor's stand before she could say anything.

"Get your instruments." Her fingers drummed along the stand, her eyes darting back and forth. Kumiko wondered what she was looking for. "We're going to have a long practice today."

* * *

Kumiko wished, desperately, that she could return to that rush of emotion she'd felt during an ensemble in earlier times, but it felt just as mechanical as it had at Kansai. If Yuuko had noticed anything out of the ordinary, however, she didn't say anything. Reina kept her eyes glued to the front of the room for the entire practice, refusing to even take breaks, and Kumiko wanted more than anything to say something - _anything -_ to her.

 _Spineless idiot,_ she chided herself. Her cheeks were red from playing as hard as she could. _You can't even work up the courage to talk to her._

"That wasn't bad," Yuuko said, clicking her tongue as she spoke. "You're all gonna have to do better, though. Trumpets, you sounded out of key. Fix that. Euphoniums, you're pretty important in this part. Act like it. Contrabass, tape up your fingers, you're getting blood all over the floor." Midori squeaked out a quick _"yes, ma'am!"_ and scurried out of the room.

"She's harsh," Momo whispered.

"I'm not going to stop nitpicking you all," Yuuko continued, "-but you're doing a lot better than I thought you- that I thought _we_ would." She paused for a moment. "We're going to win gold. You'll have to drag me ass-first out of that auditorium before I accept anything else." A few students laughed. Natsuki looked down at the ground and smiled. "Let's run through the whole thing one more time and then call it a day."

* * *

"Argh, why won't you just _fit?"_ Kumiko tried to shove her euphonium case back into its spot on the shelf for the tenth time that evening. Momo and Natsuki had both put their euphoniums away already, and there was hardly any room left. "Stupid instrument," she muttered, wondering idly why she'd never had this problem when Asuka was a part of the band. _It's because she brought hers home most of the time,_ she thought, answering her own question.

"Is there someone else in here?" A shadow blocked out the light peeking from the hallway outside of the storage room, and Kumiko turned to see Reina wordlessly put her trumpet on the shelf for a few seconds before taking it back. Her finger brushed Kumiko's, sending warmth through her veins.

"Reina?" Reina looked at her for a moment, her eyes looking particularly owlish, and then walked away without another word.

* * *

"S-see, I know what it's like when people just . . . snap." The cactus - now sporting a little paper crown - sat directly in front of her. Three days had passed uneventfully, Nationals hanging above the whole band like a dark cloud, and the next day was the one when everyone would pack up their things and get on a bus to stay the night at a lodge near the competition hall. "I've seen that. It's horrible, but at least it's _over_ after that. This is just _weird_ and _bad_ and I d-don't know why I'm still talking to you about this, because you're just a cactus and you can't talk back to me." Kumiko stood up. "I'm going to take a walk."

* * *

Kumiko felt like she was in a trance, pulled along by a string, as she headed in the direction of the school. The train was empty, though it was still light out.

 _What have I been doing?_ she asked herself as the train wailed to a halt. _What's been the problem with this year?_ She stepped off, smoothing out the blue ribbon on her uniform - darkened from use, now - and walking closer and closer to Kitauji's campus.

 _Why did everything change so much?_ The stairs seemed to glow from nearby streetlights, and Kumiko ran up them without a second thought. She thought back to her first day, the horrendous band playing on top of those very same stairs. _What's going to happen now?_

"Talking to yourself, hmm?" Kumiko froze, chills spreading through her body as she turned around to see a familiar figure sitting on a bench below her.

"Asuka-senpai?" she whispered hoarsely. The figure adjusted a pair of red-rimmed glasses, glinting in the sunlight. "Asuka-senpai!" Kumiko scrambled down the stairs, her breath tangled somewhere between her chest and her throat. Asuka scooted over to make room on the bench.

"Long time no see, Oumae-chan," she purred. "How's the second year of high school been treating you?"

"It's, uh - it's been really weird? T-that' not important, though, what have _you_ been doing? I tried to reach you, but Taki-sensei said he didn't have the records or something, so I didn't know what college you, uh, w-went to."

"Oh, I've been doing a little bit of everything. Practicing witchcraft, throwing kick-ass parties, that sort of thing." Kumiko had no idea whether she was joking or not. "You're forgetting my original question, though. What's been happening at Kitauji? Is Natsuki-chan a good vice president? How are things with Kousaka-san?" Kumiko looked down at the dandelions sprouting around the legs of the bench.

"They're fine."

"No, they're not." Asuka looked uncannily similar to how she had the very last day Kumiko had seen her, clad in the same dark-blue coat, almost as if no time had passed at all. "Tell me what's wrong."

"W-well, I guess it all started with this new girl coming to the band - she's another euphonium, she really admires your dad - and then Natsuki and the president started arguing because of budgeting stuff, and Reina kept on sending me mixed signals and _then_ Mizore-senpai gave up her spot in the competition for Nozomi-senpai and Natsuki and the president just broke down yelling at each other and things got weirder with Reina and now she's not talking to me and I'm not talking to her and Taki-sensei's in the hospital and I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Asuka stared at her incredulously, her chin in her hands.

"That's . . . a lot to take in," she said.

"I know." Kumiko plucked one of the dandelions from the ground. "I've been trying to figure it all out, b-but it's just _so much_ and I don't know if I can carry it." Asuka appeared thoughtful for a moment.

"You've grown up," she murmured.

"What?"

"I can't say that it's a good thing, but it's happened. You're older now, for better or worse. I wasn't expecting to come home to that, after all the gifts-"

"Wait!" Kumiko was sure that if someone passed the two of them right now, her mouth would be in a comical _O_ shape. "You're the caretaker?!"

"In the flesh."

"How did you figure out what was going on? H-how-"

"I have my methods." Asuka played with the ends of her scarf, a clear indicator that she wouldn't reveal anything more. "Now, tell me what the deal's been with Kousaka-san. You two always acted like destined soulmates, eternal lovers, I can't imagine what could've torn that apart."

"I don't really know either, to be honest." Kumiko twirled the dandelion around her fingers, wondering how long its brethren would last in the cold weather. "We haven't talked about it. It's like . . . when your earbuds break, and if you fiddle with the cord enough they'll still work in short bursts, maybe even for a whole song, but deep down you know that you're just . . ."

"Delaying the inevitable?" Asuka supplied. Kumiko nodded. "Well, that sucks. Kousaka-san . . . she's always been a strange girl, hasn't she?"

"That's rich, coming from you."

"Ah, now, Kumiko, there's no need to get all defensive. You're acting more bitter. It doesn't suit you very well." Kumiko folded her knees to her chest.

"I guess I'm just tired." Asuka let out a long sigh, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"Aren't we all, dearest little euph?"

"I'm scared." Asuka tensed.

"Now, the world's a horrid, horrid place, but we owe it to ourselves to keep moving. _They'll_ win, otherwise."

"Who?"

"You know. _Them._ Everyone who's ever wanted you to fail, the world pitted against you. Everyone who's spat on you, broken you, even the people you've never met and hated nonetheless. Your very existence is an act of revolution, Kumiko."

"Did you come up with that just now?"

"Right off the cuff."

 _"Right."_ Asuka scooted closer, still keeping her gaze away from Kumiko.

"Listen," she began. "It's easy to turn out like me. It's easy to throw in the towel, stop caring, sit back and just let life pass by without doing a damn thing about it."

"What does this have to do with Reina?"

"Ah, you didn't let me finish." Asuka smiled knowingly. "You have to . . .to take fate into your own hands. If that red string snaps, retie it so it's strong than before. Destiny's just a thing for lazy people. I don't like to concern myself with those types. In the end, it's just you." Asuka put a hand on Kumiko's shoulder and stood up. She was expecting it to tingle, for some reason, for it to be electric, but instead it just felt safe. Comforting. "Well, I'll see you around. I've got places to go, things to see. I can't hang around much longer."

"Wait." Asuka stopped in her tracks.

"Hmm?" Kumiko ran forward and hugged her from behind.

"I'll see you around," she echoed, closing her eyes and letting her hands fall to her sides, and when she opened them, Asuka was gone.

* * *

Kumiko put in her earbuds on her way home that night.

They worked perfectly.

* * *

 **a/n:** i saw hayley kiyoko in concert on friday and she was amazing, i hope that someday i'll be able to put the magnitude of what i felt at that concert into words

next week's the finale! thanks to everyone who's supported this fic.


	13. Golden Finale

**a/n:** a friend suggested "haznat" as the natsuki/hazuki ship name and. i love it

it's the finale!

* * *

Kumiko smacked down her alarm the morning the band was set to leave, dragging herself out of bed with a stagger in her step and determination coursing through her body.

 _We're going to win gold,_ she thought, pulling on her uniform and looking at her reflection in the mirror for a few seconds before stepping out the door. She hadn't noticed it before, preoccupied with everything that had happened, but leaves had started to fall from the trees and littered the ground. She stomped on them like a little kid on her way to the station. Reina wasn't there, unsurprisingly - she was probably already at the school - and Kumiko tried to ignore the cold air that blew through her seat.

* * *

Most of the band was already crowded in the music room when Kumiko arrived, restless and excited. Yuuko stood at the front as if she'd been doing it her whole life.

"Is everyone here?" she asked. Her ribbon no longer perched on her head - it was tied around her neck like a scarf.

"I think we've got everybody except for Kousaka-san," Momo said. Yuuko leaned on the conductor's stand with a sigh.

"Could you get her, Oumae? I saw her heading to her usual spot on that bridge."

"Okay." Kumiko ran through the corridors, the halls she'd known so well, until she reached the bridge. Reina stood there, bathed in sunlight, and Kumiko's breath trapped itself in her throat.

"It's time, then?" Reina didn't quite look at her as she spoke. "Tell the president- tell _Yuuko_ that I'll be down in just a moment." Kumiko nodded.

"I will," she said. Reina's hand trembled as it gripped her trumpet. "S-see you down there."

* * *

The bus driver seemed skeptical, to say the least, of the teacher-less band, the lack of a conductor made clear.

"D'you have permission for this?" he asked. Yuuko gulped, nervously looking towards the band members already sitting in their seats.

"They do." A sharp, clear voice rang out through the parking lot, and Kumiko saw a familiar figure hurry across the tar. Midori, sitting right in front of her, squished her face to the glass.

"Matsumoto-sensei?"

"These kids are under my care." The driver let out a grunt of defeat and started the bus, leaving Kitauji High School in the dust until it wasn't anything more than a speck on the highway.

"We're on our way to the Nationals!" Natsuki cheered, standing up on her seat. Hazuki managed to pull her down right before the bus swerved and sent both of them toppling - no doubt on top of each other, though Kumiko couldn't see either of them. She leaned over to check, only to come into contact with skin, and it took a few more moments than it should've for her to realize that she was nearly leaning on Reina.

"S-sorry!" she yelped. Reina acted as if nothing had happened at all. _Tell her. Tell her now._ The impulse was stopped just before Kumiko had the chance to mumble out something of an explanation or an apology.

The ride was quiet, after that, Reina's cold stare cutting into her like daggers.

* * *

The bus found its way to the lodge hours later. The band climbed out, with the eager first-years being the earliest to leave. Momo led the pack, staring at the building in amazement.

"We're really staying here?" she breathed. Hazuki, close behind, patted her on the shoulder.

"You bet!" she squealed. Reina started walking in the direction of the lobby, and Kumiko reached out to follow her, but pulled her hand back at the last moment, the sinking feeling in her chest contorting itself in the most ugly ways possible. Yuuko didn't present the band with any kind of speech, instead following Reina to the lobby. Kumiko took a moment too long to realize that everyone was already going ahead, and she looked up to see everyone walking in a crowd in front of her. She ran to catch up, tripping on a root that sprouted from the sidewalk, and winced at the sudden, stinging pain that flooded her knee.

"Ow," she hissed. Reina stopped walking. Kumiko cradled her injured leg with gritted teeth, and through the tears that threatened to blur her vision, she saw Reina step closer to her. Natsuki shoved her out of the way.

"Does anyone here have some bandages or something?" A second-year bassoonist whose name Kumiko _still_ hadn't quite caught tossed a roll of gauze through the crowd, where it landed squarely on Natsuki's head. "Okay, that works." Reina, now standing off to the side, breathed out a sigh of something that could've been relief.

Yuuko prattled on about room assignments as clusters of students snuck away to raid the snack machine.

"You'll have to be awake and ready for the performance at seven sharp, got it?"

 _"Yes, ma'am!"_ Yuuko set down her baton on a nearby bench and sat down.

"I'll be on the second floor if anyone has any questions." Momo raised her hand.

"I have one right now!" Yuuko turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you taking charge like this?" Natsuki tried to signal her to stop, but she didn't seem to notice. "You know that Nakagawa-senpai can help you, right?"

"I'm the band's president," Yuuko replied simply. "I don't have much else I need to do." Nobody else spoke as she walked away.

* * *

Kumiko couldn't eat during dinner, nerves twisting themselves in and out through her veins. Asuka's words echoed through her head.

 _"You have to . . .to take fate into your own hands."_

"You've hardly even touched your food!" Hazuki yelped, snapping her from her thoughts.

"You won't be strong enough for the performance tomorrow!" Midori added. Kumiko pushed away her plate with a grunt.

"I'm f-fine," she mumbled, taking one last bite of the mush laid out in front of her before getting up and heading in the direction of her room. Hazuki and Midori shared a concerned glance.

* * *

 _"If that red string snaps, retie it so it's strong than before. Destiny's just a thing for lazy people. I don't like to concern myself with those types. In the end, it's just you."_

Kumiko uneasily flopped around in her futon as Asuka's impromptu speech replayed itself in stunning quality, and she soon found herself climbing out to stand at the balcony that led out of the room. The sky was a brilliant shade of purple, the stars warmly shining. Kumiko silently berated herself for sounding so clichéd, even in her own head. The moon seemed closer than usual, and the whole sky looked like something out of a watercolor painting. She almost didn't notice when Reina walked up to stand beside her. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her posture resembled that of a disgraced royal. Kumiko kept her hand on the railing as she began to speak - the metal pole being the only thing spreading her and Reina from the concrete found below.

"I've been . . . thinking," she began. "About the Nationals and Taki-sensei and . . ." She paused. Reina's silk pajamas fluttered is found in folds against the breeze. "You." Kumiko held the railing tighter. "S-see, I know that this isn't enough, I know we've both messed up a lot, and this isn't easy, b-but a lot of people have asked me what I want this year, and it's taken me a really long time to realize this, and-" she spoke the last part in a whisper, struggling to keep herself from breaking, struggling to stop herself from crying right there. "I want _you._ " Reina kept her eyes downcast. Kumiko breathed out. "The sky's pretty tonight, isn't it?"

"It's beautiful."

Kumiko's heart stopped.

Reina held her hand.

They both burst into tears.

Reina spun around and fell into Kumiko's arms, shuddering, dampening her pajamas, but neither girl seemed to care.

"I'm sorry," she gasped between sobs. Kumiko stroked her back. "I s-shouldn't have . . . I didn't think . . ."

"I'm sorry too," Kumiko sniffled. The white moon glowed purple above, and the two girls held each other. No kissing, no dancing, no hasty words of delirium or confession, in this moment that Kumiko refused to ever forget.

* * *

Kumiko woke up in a tangle of limbs at dawn, Reina's arm lazily flopped around her stomach. They were both still on the balcony, she realized with a start, her eyes still puffy from the night before. The sunrise dyed the clouds orange and pink, but she couldn't care less about it at that moment.

"I love you," she whispered to Reina in a voice that only someone who believed completely that the other person was asleep could manage, and so she drew back in surprise when Reina's eyes opened.

"You too."

They had time, Kumiko figured, time to talk everything out, time to figure out what it all meant and what they had to do, but right now all she wanted to do was lie on this stone balcony with the girl - nearly a woman, now, seventeen years old and looking like a fantasy but feeling as real as anyone could - and let the world fall away for just a little longer. This was what she had waited for, what she'd wanted and wished for, but there was still one more thing to do.

"We should get ready," she murmured, voice thick with sleep. Kumiko reluctantly headed for the door, and she didn't miss the way Reina's fingers locked with her own as if that was how they were always meant to be. "The Nationals won't wait."

Reina seemed to turn serious as soon as she stepped back into the room, pulling on her uniform like nothing had happened, but she snuck a few glances at Kumiko that let her know that she hadn't forgotten. Kumiko smiled as she fluffed up her tie and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Hazuki pranced around the room in positive ecstasy, picking up Midori at one point and spinning her around with a grin that could've made the coldest heart melt. The quartet - finally a quartet again, after months of tension and fear and _life_ \- pushed open the door and headed out into the hall.

* * *

Kumiko rubbed the ribbon clipped to her uniform between her fingers, trying to let the soft fabric calm her nerves, but it did nothing in the face of the grand auditorium and Yuuko's relentless pacing. Reina squeezed her hand, and the fear eased, just a bit.

"We'll be alright," she whispered. Her eyes were still puffy from the previous night, but her coldness was gone. Kumiko loved her - she knew that with every piece of her, she _loved_ the girl holding her hand and holding a trumpet, and she felt such a rush of warmth pour from her chest that she had to grip it for a moment. "Kumiko? Are you alright?

"I don't know how I did it before." Nozomi and Mizore took turns fixing their uniforms a few feet away, never more than an inch away from each other. "I . . . nothing." Reina tilted her head to the side. Kumiko thought of the mountain, of the auditions and the fireworks and all of the longing glances they'd shared, and she knew in this quiet moment that it had all been worth it.

"We'll win gold," Reina said, and there was a hint of pride in her voice, as if she was challenging anyone who said otherwise. Kumiko pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before hurrying to join the lineup.

* * *

The fear faded as the curtain rose. Kumiko turned to Natsuki for just a split second, and she caught a wink from her. Reina looked right ahead, raising the trumpet to her lips. Yuuko lifted the baton, and the room burst into song.

 _Eclipse_ had never sounded so beautiful to Kumiko's ears. She played each note with fervor, with the swelling, warm feeling in her chest making itself known every time she played. She could hear Reina's trumpet, too - louder without Yuuko - and it nearly brought a tear to her eye. _This_ was what they'd all practiced so hard for. They were here, at the Nationals, after everything, and for just a moment Kumiko thought she saw Asuka in the audience, waving to her, but she blinked and she was gone.

* * *

Kumiko wandered the halls alone as the band awaited the results. Hazuki had skipped away with her rainbow backpack on her shoulders, jangling with all the buttons she'd pinned to it, while Natsuki had gone outside to take a breather and Midori was hovering around every memorabilia stand. Reina had disappeared entirely.

"We made it, huh?" Kumiko murmured, not to anyone in particular. The wide-open space of the hall gave her a strange comfort, so unlike the narrow corridors of Kyoto and Kansai. _Or maybe I've changed._ "We played at the Nationals for the second year in a row."

"Kumiko! They'll announce the results soon! Who're ya talking to?" She turned around to see Natsuki waving her over. "Kousaka, I guess." Kumiko blinked in confusion before Reina tapped her on the arm and smiled, looking like the moon and the stars and the whole universe bundled into one girl.

"Y-yeah, I'll be there in a second!" Reina took hold of her hand and started running. Kumiko realized that nearly everyone else had joined Natsuki, and she could pick out all of them - Midori's fluffy golden halo poking out for behind Hazuki, hanging onto Natsuki's arm while Yuuko tapped her foot impatiently and fiddled with her scarf. Gotou and Riko held hands with Momo jumping up and down in excitement, a brand-new Eupho-kun plushie held snug in her arms, and Nozomi leaned against Mizore somewhere in the back. Kumiko didn't care about the results, she realized as her feet seemed to float and the girl she loved walked her over to the crowd. This, right here, was all she could want.

* * *

The whole band seemed to quiver as the results were awaited.

"It's my fault," Yuuko muttered. Kumiko looked up to see her sitting in the row of seats directly behind her.

"They haven't even announced the results yet. We might still get gold." The chat next to her was empty - Reina had run to the bathroom, and Yuuko's gaze seemed to pierce somewhere deep in her chest.

"You really think they'd give a hasty student-run mess like us gold?"

 _"Did you really think we'd make it to Nationals?"_

"Yeah," Kumiko mumbled, the words fizzing in her mouth like someone had just pulled out a tooth. They sounded strange, even to her own ears. "I think they would." Reina dashed down the aisle and practically dove into her seat, her chest heaving.

"Did they show the results?" she asked, gasping for breath.

"Not yet," Yuuko said before leaning back. "I'm sorry, though. About Taki-sensei."

"The hospital said he'd make a full recovery soon enough," Reina murmured softly. "You were more than enough as a substitute." Kumiko wasn't sure if it was the lights or her imagination, but Yuuko's cheeks seemed to turn a bright pink.

"T-thank you," she huffed.

"Hey, I'm glad everyone's getting some last-minute realizations in here, but they're about to unroll the banner," Natsuki whispered. Kumiko sat up straight. She could feel her pulse quickening, and Reina held her hand as tight as she could. Time seemed to slow down. Kumiko felt the tears coming before she even saw the results - it was a certain kind of _knowing_ in her gut, a relaxed feeling that told her she'd be alright.

 _Kitauji High School - Gold_

"We did it!" Hazuki shrieked. She jumped up and down like a child on her birthday, her hands balled into excited fists, and she was soon joined by Midori, sobbing, and Natsuki, who she picked up bridal style in her joy. Momo's glasses fogged over until she had to take them off and wipe her eyes, transfixed on the gold lettering. Kumiko hugged Reina tightly, and she didn't know how someone could _feel so much_ in just the span of a few days, but that was what was happening, and she didn't mind it one bit.

The whole band looked to be floating on air, their smiles wide, and Yuuko held the trophy like it was her own baby.

"I guess we should get a photo or something?" she said. "I mean, that's what usually happens."

"I think the photographers usually come to _us,_ Prez," Natsuki pointed out, but there wasn't any bitterness in her voice - she lightly bumped Yuuko with her elbow, looking the happiest Kumiko had seen her in a long time.

"Nakagawa-senpai's usually right about this stuff," Momo added. Natsuki waggled her eyebrows at Yuuko before a photographer hurried over to the celebrating group.

"Would you all like a-"

 _beep-beep-beep_

All eyes fixed themselves on Yuuko, who sheepishly took her phone from her pocket. The color drained from her face the second she looked at the screen.

"It's Taki-sensei," she gasped, fumbling for the answer button. "Taki-sensei? We won gold, we-"

 _"I know. I watched you all on television."_ The band huddled around the phone as if they could get closer to Taki that way. _"You were all wonderful. I'm so, so glad that you managed to perform in my absence. I'm sure you'll all be fine when I leave, too."_ A few students took up cries of _"don't leave!"_ and _"we need you!"_ but they quickly died down. _"Yoshikawa-san, you were the most incredible conductor, and you all played in ways I didn't think you were capable of. Every one of you should be proud."_ Kumiko didn't say anything, but she imagined Taki sitting in his hospital bed as he praised the band, his wise eyes that seemed too old for a man his age shining with pride, and she suddenly had an idea.

"Hey, Reina," she whispered, and soon the plan was spread to the rest of the band. "On the count of three, okay? One, two . . ."

 _"We love you, Taki-sensei!"_

* * *

"Are you sure it's safe up here?" Kumiko nervously climbed the last step as Reina stood a few feet in front of her. "I didn't even know people _could_ stand on the roof."

"I've thought about standing here for a long time." Reina sat down, and Kumiko joined her. "I promised myself that when I won gold at the Nationals, I'd go here and watch the people below, and I'd be above them - look down." Kumiko did.

"They look like ants!"

"Exactly. I thought that once I won gold, I'd be really, truly special. I'd be different from the others." Reina paused. It was cold, on the roof, and as beautiful as it was, Kumiko couldn't help but feel somewhat chilly. "Then I realized that I didn't need the Nationals for that. I ha already become special. There isn't anyone like me, or like you - I'd already for what I set out to do."

"Is t-that what you wanted to tell me?"

"You can go back to the afterparty, if you want."

 _She saw right through me._ "Well, uh, there's not really anything there except for some trumpet-shaped cookies one of the clarinets made - I guess they would've been a consolation prize if we'd lost, b-but . . . yeah." Kumiko trailed off. Reina sat beside her. "I don't really want to go back."

"Our story won't end here, you know." Kumiko didn't know how someone could've so wonderful and yet so human, so cheesy and such a dork but also the most incredible person she'd met.

"I know." Kumiko paused. "Why'd you bring me up here, anyway?"

"Do you remember when I took you up the mountain last year?"

"Yeah."

"Do you remember the song we played there?"

"Yeah."

"This is the same." Reina closed her eyes, letting the breeze tickle her face, and Kumiko had never been more smitten.

"Reina . . ."

 _"The place where we found love."_

* * *

 **a/n:** well...yeah. i liked s2 overall, but they didn't do so well when it came to reina's character, and i wanted to see more kumirei and more natsuki, so i did the only thing a bitter gay fic writer could do - i wrote a fic. a long fic. a third season of my own design, with the character arcs that had hardly been touched upon in the show itself. and people liked it? i know things didn't make a whole lot of sense during the latter half - stuff happened in my personal life that made it a bit hard to separate my writing from my feelings - but i tried my best and i hope that this fic helped give some sense of closure to _hibike! euphonium_ that kyoani failed to deliver. this isn't the end of my hibike fic-writing, but i don't see myself writing another multichapter anytime soon. kumiko and reina have fallen in love before. it's time to see what else they'll do.

there'll be an epilogue posted sometime next week. thanks again for all the support (special thanks to my friends in the group chat including the lovely beta reader ihearyoulikeawhisper and to tumblr users dokodonmystery and alittlebirb for their beautiful fanart) and as haruka would say - _"kitauji, fighto!"_


	14. Nostalgic Epilogue

**a/n:** here's the short epilogue, as promised!

* * *

Months passed. The third-years retired, leaving Reina and Kumiko in charge. Momo grew into her role as the second euph, while Hazuki often snuck away from practices to "meet up with a mentor." Kumiko was willing to suspend disbelief until she caught her making out with Natsuki beneath a stairwell, rainbow backpack crumpled on the floor. Midori took on a quiet sort of leadership, rallying the younger students. Taki returned to school for the last few months as somewhat of a bystander, confined to a wheelchair but still beaming with pride every time the band finished a performance.

As for Kumiko and Reina, they made things work. They still danced under starry ceilings in Reina's room, but they also talked and let days go by when nothing happened in particular. Kumiko still felt unbelievably happy whenever she held Reina's hand - she still felt a thousand fireworks go off in her head when they kissed - but the subtle moments were treasured just as much.

The seasons changed, the world changed, but March crept upon everyone like the lion they all called it, and before anyone could realize what was happening, graduation ceremonies began.

 _"I'm incredibly grateful to Kitauji High School for everything it's given me . . ._ " droned a third-year Kumiko had never talked to. She fidgeted in her seat, looking nervously for Natsuki and remembering the previous year like a tidal wave of disjointed memories.

"Go," Reina whispered.

"Eh?"

"Natsuki-senpai talked earlier. She won't be here. I'll meet up with you later." Reina kissed her on the cheek.

"W-what was that for?"

"Good luck." Reina crossed her legs and looked back up at the same third-year, who was still rambling about teachers Kumiko didn't know. "We have a band to run next year, Kumiko. You should be with your friend when you still can." Kumiko nodded and crept outside. Snow crunched under her feet and flew up in little clouds as she ran until she finally caught up with Natsuki, who stood alone in a clearing.

"You're here to say goodbye, right?" Kumiko quietly stepped beside her.

"I d-don't really like goodbyes," she murmured. _I don't want to lose you too._

"Well, you're in luck!" Natsuki grinned like she was the host of a game show and she was about to present Kumiko with the grand prize.

"What?"

"I'm not going anywhere. Taking a gap year, y'know, helping out the band when I can, staying until you and Katou and the others graduate. You might be kinda lost without Taki-sensei there." Kumiko could've cried with relief. "Ya can't get rid of me that easily."

"I'm glad." Kumiko rubbed her eyes, hoping that the falling snow would hide the way they watered.

"Hey, hey, don't cry. I'm not Asuka-senpai, I'm not gonna leave without warning. There's a lot ahead of us yet." Natsuki rested her hand on Kumiko's shoulder. "Speaking of which, _you_ should get going. There's a girl back there who's spent nearly a year finding you, it'd be a shame if ya missed out on the last practice for a while because we were here being sappy."

"So, I'll see you around?" Natsuki nodded and wrapped her in a hug.

"Definitely." Kumiko waved as Natsuki headed down the stairs, finally turning around and making fresh tracks in the snow in the direction of the school building.

 _I guess it worked out._

* * *

 **a/n:** so. uh. i already posted most of my feelings about this fic and my thanks and all that in the previous chapter, but i just wanted to say thanks again. if it weren't for all of you, you wonderful people who took the time to leave such lovely reviews, i wouldn't have been able to write this with such determination. i love you all.


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